Isle Problems 2: In the Family
by AshLandWriter
Summary: Taking place between the first and second movies, this fic continues the events of Isle Problems: Behind the Scenes. Follow Ben and the Islanders as they spend the summer at his castle, learning just how different Ben's family is in private from when they're in the public eye. Trigger Warning: abuse, addiction, and mood and eating disorders. Taboo Topics: masochism and incest.
1. Nothing Else Exists

**About this Fic:**

**1) **In the first Isle Problems fic there was calendar inconsistences, something that a reader may not have noticed but something that would be very hard to have me deal with when trying to write consistency. So, from this point forward I will be putting the calendar date I'm following with each title. This is more of an author's tool and isn't meant to directly correlate with real-world event timelines (such as an invention of a device). Although, just as with the first fic, I'm sure it will be helpful for you to know day and time of the setting.

**2)** If you haven't read the first Isle Problems fic or seen the movies this fic is based on, then please do that now to avoid confusion. Thank you.

**3) **As with the first fic, this one will too cover serious topics. **Trigger warning** for psychological/emotional and physical abuse, addiction, self-harm, mood disorders and eating disorders, and mention of rape/sexual assault. **Spoiler**: taboo topics include masochism and incest, which doesn't necessarily mean that it will happen; however, it will be discussed... I'm not even going to get into ships. It's pretty complicated right now, but I plan to start having Mal date both Ben and Evie with all three parties consenting to the situation by the end of the fic.

**4)** This fic takes place over the span of the summer, and it can be read alongside Side Problems: In the Pack (will be released after first week of this fic). I will also be releasing My Name is Belle Marie soon, as her journal is mentioned in the fic. There's also this weird dream I had, which inspired me to give that health store guy a background story. What health store guy? The one where I know why Ben starts talking to him more and you don't.

**5)** Five... What can I put for five? Right. So, I love to know what people think of the story, so make sure to leave comments. I still haven't had anyone tell me their overall thoughts of the first fic, maybe because it ended on a cliffhanger or they thought I wouldn't read comments for a finished story (assuming you can still comment on a finished story). So, yeah. Feel free to leave as many comments as you'd like, preferably on the chapter you're talking about... Okay. I'm done now.

* * *

**Nothing Else Exists **

**(Saturday Evening, June 15****th****, 2019)**

When Ben fails to speak Chad reassures, "It's okay. We don't need to talk about it. We can just hang out or something."

"No." He takes a deep breath, "I want to tell you."

There's more silence, before Chad questions, "What's up?"

Ben meets his greyish blue eyes, lost for words. Chad waits this time, and Ben eventually manages, "My father isn't very good to me." He gulps, "Even when he's well, he tends to be over… critical, and…" His breath shakes, his voice rising into a high-pitched whisper, "I don't know how to make him happy." as the tears flow from his eyes again. He wipes them away, but more fall, "It's like, I get it. Okay? I'm a bad king. I'm going to ruin this country, and I'm going to be responsible for the death of every single one of my citizens."

Chad deeply frowns, "He told you that?"

Ben looks off, "Not in those words." before he shakes his head and shuts his eyes. "I'm just so tired of it." He feels his face burn from the salty tears and fever, "I wish I was dead."

"Don't say that," Chad says, before he moves in to hug him. "It's okay, Ben. No one's going to die. Not you. Not your country."

Ben takes in the sour, surgery scent, and his breathing slows, "You smell a lot better without those chemicals."

He laughs, "You have a nose like a dog."

Ben turns towards the inside of the neck, traced as he slowly goes to suck on the skin, but when he tastes the tartness he shuts his eyes and lets go of him, "Sorry."

"It's okay." Chad reminds himself, "You're upset."

"Maybe we should have dinner, order room service," Ben suggests.

"Okay," he nods. "Let's do that."

* * *

Ben notices Chad's uncomfortableness, "You don't like my steak."

Chad cuts a piece out of his chicken, "Blood just makes me squeamish."

"It's juice," he quietly counters.

Chad gives him a look, "It's blood."

Ben wets his lips, "I can have something else."

"No," he asserts. "You need some good comfort food right now. You need things that make you happy."

It takes him a moment to say, "I just have a taste for it." before he looks up at him. "That doesn't make me a carnivore or anything."

Chad meets his eyes, "I never said it did." and there's brief salience before he glances down. "So. Your father." He takes a bite of the sauerkraut, "What's up with that?"

"I feel like I've tried everything," Ben whispers, before he takes a drink of the red wine. "I just don't know what to do anymore."

"If he hurt you," Chad softly suggests, "then you could turn him in."

"No," he looks down, cutting into his steak and watching the blood flow. "I'm king. It would look like a political move." The tears intrude his eyes again, as his heart races, "He's such a good man." He meets Chad's eyes, "We're the poster family for goodness and success."

"You don't want to ruin your image," he slowly suspects.

"No one would believe me," Ben frowns, before he shakes his head and pushes the steak around his plate. He doesn't want this. He doesn't want to talk. He looks back up at Chad, glancing at his neck. He wants to jump him, bite him, and taste that tart blood flow endlessly, engulfing his senses so nothing else exists.

"I would believe you."

Ben moves his eyes to meet Chad's, "Your father wouldn't. No one else would." before he notices Chad about to speak. "We're just children. To them, our word means nothing."

"You're their king," he reminds him.

Ben takes a moment, "I don't think that would matter too much. Scientifically speaking, my brain isn't fully developed. Every choice I make gets second guessed."

Chad starts to tear up, "I've almost lost you twice now, maybe more that I don't know about." and Ben looks away. "I can't lose you. I need to know you're going to be okay."

Ben faces him with an attempted smile, "Okay as ever." before he refills Chad's glass.

* * *

"You shave your legs?" Chad notices, as they sit in the hot tub.

Ben looks down at them before commenting uncomfortably, "I don't like getting hairy."

"And shaving doesn't get you embarrassed or anything?" Chad unsurely questions.

He shakes his head, "No. Why should it?"

"Well," he eyes him, "it's a girl thing."

Ben awkwardly smiles, "This is Auradon. It gets hot."

"That's not what you said before," he slowly points out.

Ben notices him straighten up, becoming more alert, "You use lotion."

"That's an age thing," Chad reminds him. "I have a good excuse."

"It's hot," Ben repeats. "I have a good excuse."

He eyes him for a minute, "Whatever." before he looks over his bare chest and blue swim shorts. Chad forces his eyes away, "I'm going to take a shower." before he stands up to get out. "You should get dressed too. It's getting late."

* * *

"I wish we could stay here forever," Ben mumbles, as he and Chad lay in the bed.

"What about your girlfriend?" he reminds him.

Ben keeps his eyes shut as he frowns, "I don't want to go home." and when Chad doesn't know what to say he continues. "She doesn't know anything… You know."

"Yeah," Chad merely responds.

Ben moves closer, leaning his head on his shoulder, "I'm glad you came." before he takes a slow breath. "I don't know where I'd be without you."

"I'm glad you called." There's a minute of silence, before Chad admits, "I like you."

"I like you too," Ben slowly mumbles.

"Ben," Chad tries to address, "I like you, like… I love you." He doesn't respond, and Chad takes a nervous breath, "Ben?"

"You're a good friend," he manages.

"Right," Chad frowns as he slightly shakes his head. "Friend."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 02/28/2019 (American Standard)


	2. Loyal

**Loyal **

**(Sunday Afternoon, June 16****th****)**

The doors open wide, and Belle stands from the red armchair, her book slipping from her fingers and clunking to the ground, as her mouth gapes, "Ben."

"Mother," he whispers back.

She rushes up to him and places her hands onto his shoulders, "Are you okay?" before she goes in to hug him. "I was so afraid I'd never see you again."

"I'm fine."

She straightens up and gives a pointed look, "I tried to call, you know."

"I know," Ben continues to frown.

It takes a minute for his mother to question, "Why? What happened?"

Ben's eyes lower as he shakes his head, "Nothing." before meeting her shining brown ones again. "I overreacted."

"Overreacted?" she nearly laughs. "You ran away, Ben. It must be something." He looks away from her, and she pleads, "Please. Honey, I want you to be honest with me."

Ben wets his lips before facing her, "It's the same shit as always. That's it." He notices her searching for a new way to get him to share, and he shifts in his stance, "I should check the answering machine in the office. It's been a few weeks."

"Of course," she lets out a breath, but when he starts to walk off, she says, "You will join us for dinner."

Ben looks over his shoulder, eying her for a long moment. He can't tell if she was asking for ordering, "I'll be there."

"So," Ben's father clears his throat. "Where did you go off to?"

Ben looks between his mother and his father. There's no way she would have told him about their secret precaution. He must be speaking in general, knowing that he just hasn't been there and nothing more. "I, uh." Ben pokes his fork into the turkey before dipping it into the dark gravy, "I was at a hotel with Chad."

His parents give each other a look, and Ben notices the others staring at him before his mother questions, "Did anyone see you?"

"At least the desk man," he thinks, "but I paid in cash."

"A cash trail can be followed if there are witnesses," his mother reminds him.

"What does it matter?" Ben irritably questions. "It's not like I was doing anything," his eyes shift, "against the law."

He hears his mother let out a relieved breath, "Good. We don't need some nosy reporter finding that you shared a one bed room with another boy."

"Uh," his mind escapes him.

"There was more than one bed," his father sternly eyes him.

It's hard for him to get the words out, "I wasn't planning on him coming. Well, um."

"Not when you bought the room," his mother clears up.

"Right," Ben immediately answers. "That's right."

"Well, that's still no excuse," his father stresses. "He could have done with an upgrade, but no. He'd rather had shared a bed with that Chad."

"It's just a bed," Ben nearly yells. "Girls do it all the time." He turns towards Mal and Evie, "Isn't that right?" before he notices them glance at each other and remembers. "Right."

"I believe you, honey," he hears his mother say, before he turns and sees her nod.

Ben attempts to smile at her, "Thank you."

* * *

"Something's wrong," Ben notices Mal's hyper tense posture as he hurries after her down the hall. "What is it?"

Mal swiftly turns around, and Ben nearly runs into her. "What is it?" she disbelieves.

He wets his lips, "Is it about Chad?" and when she laughs he frowns. "I'm not like that. You don't need to worry about him."

"Like that," Mal mutters, shaking her head with crossed arms, before she seethes, "You don't need to be gay to mess around with a guy."

"Nothing happened," he calmly reassures, but when she continues to stare at him he looks away. "Is this really where we are?" Ben faces her, "You've cheated on me a lot. And, okay, sure. You didn't really have a choice, but what? I can have proof and can't be upset, but when you don't have proof you can get as mad as you want?"

"This isn't about cheating."

"It seems like it," he pointedly states.

"I don't care if you fuck some guy," Mal shouts, and Ben stills, shocked. She takes a calming breath, "It's just, you're king. You could have anyone, and you choose him?"

"I wouldn't say choice," he quietly comments. "He's my friend."

"Whatever's going on with you and Chad," Mal widens her eyes, "I don't like it."

"What's wrong with Chad?"

"He's not loyal," she emphasizes. "He doesn't know the first thing about being loyal."

It takes a minute for him to say, "He's loyal to me."

"You think so?" her eyebrows raise.

"He was there for me last night," Ben quietly states, and Mal stays quiet as he steps forward. "And nothing's going on. I promise." She still doesn't speak, and his smile parts in interest as he touches her dark brown curls, "Hey. You dyed your hair."

Mal takes a step back, "Really?" before she shakes her head, walks into the room, and slams the door behind her.


	3. Walking Backward

**Walking Backward **

**(Monday Afternoon, June 17****th****)**

"This is your first public appearance in months," the brown haired interviewer informs. "You haven't even given any statements to the press." Ben merely smiles in response, before the blue eyed man assumes, "I'm sure everyone would love to know how you've been."

"I'm fine," he slightly nods.

"That's it?" the reporter disbelieves. "Tell us something. Where have you been? What have you been doing?"

"Mostly just school work." Ben wets his lips, "I will be able to be more… politically focused this summer." before his eyes shift. "Hopefully."

"You make your months sound mundane," he laughs off, and Ben's expression completely falls. This was a bad idea. His vocabulary really isn't where it needs to be. "We all know you broke your arm. How did that happen?"

"It was my shoulder," Ben corrects, before his eyes lower in thought. "I fell down some stairs at the castle."

After he stops the man prompts, "And how did that happen?"

Ben faces him with a frown, "I was walking backward." but then his eyes shift again. "I should have been more careful."

"It seems hard on you, remembering it."

Ben meets his eyes, "The hard part was the concussion. It made my speaking skills less… Well, uh, I wasn't allowed to talk to the public, because my parents thought what I said could be misunderstanded."

"I see," the interviewer slowly says, before his eyebrows rise. "So, the rumor that your girlfriend pushed you down those stairs is a lie?"

Ben narrows his eyes, "Mal didn't do this to me."

"So, who did?" he shifts his seating, interested.

Ben loudly responds, "I—" before his eyes dart to the camera and then to the ground as his voice quiets. "I did. It's my fault."

"And you're sure about that?"

"I should have been more careful," he repeats in stress.

"Pretty accident prone, aren't you?" he smiles. "That cut on your foot four years ago which hospitalized you, that horrid bruise you got from tourney practice a couple years ago, and now you fall down the stairs?"

Ben recalls stepping on the broken glass and how the blood had flowed from his foot, before he merely frowns, "Yes."

"But you're doing better now," the reporter assumes.

"Better?" Ben questions in insecurity. "Yes."

"Well, let me just say on the behalf of the—" His words speed up, and Ben stares at his lips as it makes the incomprehensible sounds.

When the man stops Ben leans his head forward, "Pardon?"

"Do you disagree?" his eyebrows rise again.

He's trapped. If he makes another undecided comment, he won't appear strong. He has to take a strong stance, but what did that guy even say? If he takes the wrong side, then the backlash could be awful. What is he supposed to say? It's a yes or no question. He has to think of the context. It was about how he got injured a lot, and then he confirmed he was better. The reporter said that on the behalf of someone he was going to say something. He said something. It had to have been something about how he's getting better. Ben wets his lips, "Yes. I agree." as he feels his heart race.

"It's good to have you back," the brown-haired man nods, before he gestures to the cameras, "and speaking to us all."

"Uh, yeah," Ben nervously laughs. "I've been gone long."

"Too long," he loudly chuckles, and Ben holds his grin; however, then the reporter's expression turns solemn. "As great as it is to see you here again, there is a serious subject to cover that you have yet to comment on."

"Which one?" Ben frowns.

"The attack on Princess Audrey by your girlfriend," he explains. "I think your country would like an official statement from you now that your girlfriend has indeed been charged guilty of the sexual assault."

"Attempted sexual assault," he corrects. "And all she did was try to kiss her. For heat, no less. It wasn't sexual at all."

"But what terror the princess must've felt," he painfully emotes, and Ben tilts his head in annoyance. This guy always overdoes it. This network always needs a story. "Don't you think it was wrong for your girlfriend Mal, the daughter of the villain who put Princess Audrey's kingdom under a sleeping curse for a hundred years, to assault the princess like this?"

"Attempted assault," Ben corrects again. This guy's really pushing it. He's purposely putting him in a corner, and Ben can feel the heavy air pushing in on him.

"That's what I said," he smirks.

"Mr. Roberts," Ben stares him down, "as much as I don't like what happened, I also don't like that hybrids aren't given proper…"

"So, you're siding with the princess now?" the man interrupts.

"Resources. Resources," Ben stresses. "If hybrids were given proper resources to take care of their needs, then this kind of thing wouldn't happen."

"Well, you're king," he calmly responds. "If you don't like it, then why not change it?"

A tingling sensation runs over Ben's skin. He clutches the arms of the leather seat. He could stand right now and go over there to bite into his neck, and this hyper feeling would melt away as the blood floods his mouth and he becomes blissfully ignorant to his surroundings. Yes. He must be crazy. Ben shakes his head, before he recalls the question, "It's not that easy."

"And the apartments for the homeless?"

"Working on it," Ben plainly states.

The reporter places a hand to the com in his ear, looking off to the ground, before he faces Ben again, "Back to your girlfriend—"

"Pardon," he unsurely interrupts, "but I really don't feel right talking for Mal."

"Of course, not," the interviewer bypasses. "We'd like to hear your thoughts."

It takes a long minute for Ben to say, "I said my thoughts. Hybrids need to have better healthcare— any care at all. This wasn't all Mal's fault. It was mine for not taking care of her needs, and it was my father's for not giving hybrids easier… to give them an able way to get checked out so that their needs can be met and enough resources so that they have the help."

"That's the thing that irks me," the reporter makes a face. "When a vampire preys on humans without consent, it's taken just as serious as rape. So, what makes your girlfriend so special that when she preys on a human without consent, then it shouldn't be taken seriously?"

"I never said it wasn't serious," Ben denies. "I'm just saying that there's a reason why these things happen, and it's the way things are set up. Sticking with vampires, a vampire can't drink from a human without going to city hall and filing the paper work. It's like a marriage, but people don't need to get married. Vampires need blood. It gets in the way."

"It's there to protect the human," he reminds him. "Someone has to check in on the donor and vampire to make sure they're being safe."

"Like sex," Ben nods, "but you don't need someone to check on you then."

The reporter half laughs, "I'd hardly compare a blood donation to physical intimacy."

"I believe two consenting people have a right to do what they want," Ben reinforces.

"The contract keeps the human safe," he disbelieves.

"The contact keeps the human from coming forward if something bad happens," Ben proclaims. "When they sign it, they are giving up the rights to their body, and they may not know how or when they can change their mind." Ben nods, "If they sign it, it's their fault if they get killed… in their heads." before he folds his hands. "That doesn't help anyone."

"So, you and your girlfriend don't have a contract?" he unsurely asks.

It takes him a moment to answer, "There is no contract for Mal's needs."

"So, there's nothing stopping her from hurting you?" Ben looks off in thought, and the reporter questions, "Or has she hurt you already?"

Ben faces him, "Mal and I aren't always good to each other, but there's no ill… no evil behind it. It's just something we need to work on, and it's in no way one-sided."

"So, you've both hurt each other?" he peruses.

"Yes."

"Can you clarify that for us, give some examples perhaps?"

It takes Ben a moment to process the sentence, "I, uh." before he clears his throat and rubs his hands over each other. "Well. Mal has had some bad times that I've been quick to forget, and she gets upset when I don't know I'm reminding her of those things."

"What kind of things?"

"I'm not at liberty to say," Ben immediately responds. "It's Mal's story, and she has the right to say as much or as little as she's comfortable to it."

"And the ways she's hurt you?" he inquires. "Are you not allowed to speak about any of that either?"

"No." Ben lets out a breath, "Uh-em." before he looks between the camera and the reporter. "To be clear, Mal has not hurt me any more than I've hurt her, and I don't want her to get in trouble for us not being good at talking to each other."

"Of course," he prods on.

Ben nods before hesitantly answering, "Mal knows what she wants, and that's not a bad thing at all, but…" His eyes shift, and his frown deepens, "I'm not as… to say an outdated saying, she wears the pants in the… relationship. In our relationship I have a hard time saying what I do or don't want, because it's not like I don't want it. It's just that sometimes I'm not feeling good enough for it."

"Are you saying she sexually assaulted you?" he surprises.

"Nothing happened," Ben quickly comments, before he pauses. "What I'm saying is that Mal and me aren't perfect, and we need to talk better to each other. It's just something we need to work on, like I said before."

"But if what you said it true," he asserts, "that you both hurt each other, then that doesn't sound like a healthy relationship."

"No relationship is healthy," Ben retorts.

The man laughs, "I know a few couples who would disagree with you."

"Then, I guess, it's just me," he irritably responds. "Because, I have yet to see anyone I know to be a healthy relationship."

"So, your parents don't have a healthy relationship?" he suggests, and Ben is put off-guard. "You did say you don't know anyone who's in a healthy relationship."

"I'd rather not talk about my parents," Ben mutters.

"Why not?" Ben opens his mouth to answer, but before he can the man speaks again. The words are fast, and by the time Ben's able to interpret the first half of the first sentence the reporter has already finished his second one. Ben's mouth gapes, and his eyebrows furrow when the man continues talking.

He shouts in French, "Would you shut up?" and the interviewer's words halt, his expression a stunned frown. Ben takes a deep breath as he brings a hand to his forehead, before he straightens up and meets the reporter's blue eyes, continuing in English, "Please. Can we just take our time with this, one question at a time?"

"Of course, King Ben," he unsurely states. "My apologies."

Ben informs, "I don't want to talk about my parents, because it's not my place to." before his eyes shift. "What was your second question again?"

It takes a minute for the man to comment, "You yelled something in French. Could you interpret that for our audience?"

Ben wets his lips, "I asked if you could slow down."

"And why's that?"

"Because," he faces him, quiet for a moment. "French is my first language, and after the stairs I've had a hard time with English. This talk we had is hard… I can't keep up."

"But you're bilingual," he comments in confusion.

Ben continues to frown, and it takes him a minute to remember the word, "My, uh, what I think bilingual is, is someone who grew up with two languages. Me, I learned English in grade school, and we never really said it at home."

His mouth widens as his eyes peer at him in doubt, quietly questioning, "Your parents never taught you English?"

Ben's eyes shift, "No." before he tilts his head and blankly stares at the reporter. "No. They didn't."


	4. Gold to Dirt

**Gold to Dirt **

**(Tuesday Morning, June 18****th****)**

Ben lays on the couch in the brick living room, the large television lighting up the room in blue. He's been waiting for it: for the story to break, how he came forward about his parents not being in a healthy relationship and how they'd abused him. The moment it does they will find out, and the moment they find out they will take it out on him. He sits up. His mother would want to hear it from him first. She would want to be prepared to dismantle his father, but he can't. He can't let them know more than they need to, not about this. If they find out he's still not completely better, then his father will insist on becoming regent— take control of the crown until he can convince him he's better. His mother would send him to the doctor, and that would just open a whole other set of problems.

When the news anchor says they have a long-awaited interview from King Ben he turns up the volume. To give them credit, they don't take him out of context; however, they had no need to this time. The full video makes him look bad enough. He catches a word he'd said wrong, his mannerisms are all nervous, and further in his facial expression appears hostile. No one would be surprised that he'd actually thought about killing the reporter in that moment. The piercing look of his eyes, he could be a real predator, and it surprises him that the man hadn't acted like prey during a single second of this.

It makes it to the part where he starts to divulge that personal information on Mal, something which he's been sincerely regretting. It doesn't matter if he doesn't want to press charges. The fact is Mal is already on parole for sexual assault, and if they think she's committed another, then she will get in trouble whether he wants her to or not. It doesn't even matter that he's hurt her. Physical assault will be taken more seriously than psychological abuse, just because it's more clear-cut, and even if it weren't then they'd both be in trouble, not neither.

Ben's eyebrows furrow. The interview's ended, and now they're commenting on his thoughts about carnivores not needing a contract from a human to feed from them. That's the story they're playing. He'd given them gold, dirt that any journalist would figuratively kill for, and yet they didn't take it. Why didn't they take it? He doesn't have a clue, his mind a fog. All he knows is he's tired and he needs to rest.

Ben walks up the stairs of the living room pit, and when he opens the door he squints at the blinding light. Yes. It's definitely time to sleep. The light is telling him to; however, as he walks towards the stairs, he hears the voices. There's two men talking to his mother. Ben slowly steps down the stairs, until he can see the alcove sitting area between the two white staircases. The black-haired man's blue eyes notice him, and he smiles, "Looks like he's up now."

His mother turns in surprise, "Ben."

Ben eyes between the two police officers, before he notices their concealed guns. He hates guns. "What are you doing here?"

"Ben," his mother sighs. "Please, be polite.

Polite, whatever that means. Ben stays silent, and the brown-haired officer answers, "Someone contacted us about possible signs of abuse here. We're just checking in." He smiles at Ben's mother, "Do you mind if we speak to your son alone?"

His mother fails to immediately answer, and Ben suggests, "We can talk in the office." before stepping down the stairs.

His mother uneasily breathes, "Of course." before the officers stand from their seats.

Ben guides them into the office, the sunlight dimly passing through the heavy curtains, but one of the officers turns on the light anyway. "Turn that off, please," Ben warns, before he sits down at the desk, the officer turns the light off, and they sit across from him.

"It's a little hard to see your face," the black-haired one unsurely comments.

Ben switches on the desk lamp, "Is this better?"

"If we were reading those papers, maybe," the brown-eyed officer answers.

He furrows his brows, "Does the light not light the room for you?"

The blue eyed one on the right glances between the papers and him, "It's just a circle on the desk. It doesn't cover the room."

"Hmm," Ben hums in interest, before he bends the head of the light towards him. "Is that better? Or do you need more light?"

It takes a moment for the brown-haired one on the left to accept, "This is fine."

"So," Ben notices the bin of soda cans and slides it behind the desk. "What are you doing here again?"

"We know French, if you'd like," the man on the right informs.

Ben switches languages, "If you know French, then why didn't you speak it while talking with my mother?"

"We thought it would be beneficial for your parents not to know," he answers.

"And why's that?" Ben cautiously asks.

The man on the left speaks, "We don't mean you or your family any disrespect, my king, but you should know that we received the video to that interview you just did."

"You're here, because you think my parents have been abusing me," Ben understands, and when they fail to confirm he comments, "You have to believe me, I'm fine."

"Keeping a child from an education is abuse," the black-haired one concerns. "You admitted that much."

"But it's not like they kept me out of school," he asserts.

"So, they've never done anything else to you?" the officer questions. "The reporter was right. You do seem to get hurt a lot."

"It was an accident," Ben breathes.

"Which one?"

"All of them," he loudly whispers, and he gulps. "Okay? I just stepped on some glass from the coffee table once, and I didn't catch a ball when my father was helping me practice tourney that summer."

"That was your father?" the brown-haired man surprises.

"Look." Ben stresses, "You can't be here. This is his place. He won't like it."

"King Ben," the black-haired man slowly asks, "does your father hurt you?"

Ben feels the tears intrude his eyes, "He would never want to."

"I know you're used to political answers," he frowns, "but I'm going to need you to be honest with us." He pauses, and the tears fall to Ben's cheeks, "Does your father— does either of your parents— hurt you."

"You can't be here," he repeats in stress. "He's going to find out, he's going to know why, and then…"

"And then what?"

Ben painfully grins as he shakes his head, "I don't know."

"Maybe we should speak with him somewhere more secure?" the brown-eyed man suggests to the other officer, before he turns to Ben. "Could we set up a time and place, maybe?"

After a long minute of quiet, Ben blankly staring towards the door, the black-haired man inquires, "King Ben?"

He faces him, "I have nothing to say about my father nor my mother, and the next time you come here you'd better have a warrant." He eyes between the two, "You may leave now."


	5. Talk to Me

**Talk to Me **

**(Wednesday Afternoon, June 19****th****)**

"Hard at work, I see," Ben's mother comments when she walks into the office.

"It's not like I have anything better to do," he counters, as he writes on the paper and then scrolls down the document on the laptop.

"Your girlfriend is here, and you don't want to spend the afternoon with her?"

"You know they have those classes with Fairy Godmother, plus Mal, Evie, and Jay take that driving course afterwards," he counters.

"It's four in the afternoon," she quietly states, and when Ben looks at the clock in the lower corner of the screen, he sees it's true. "You keep yourself too busy."

He hears the worry in her voice, "I'm fine."

She closes the door and steps forwards, hands folded in front of her, "I saw the interview." before she nods down and peers at him in unsureness. "You said you and Mal haven't been treating each other very kindly."

He puts the pen down, "I also said we were working on it."

"To work on it," she puts forward, "you would need to spend time with her." Ben quiets, and she moves forward, "What was Mal's part in this?"

He faces her, "Well, you know my part was forgetting that she'd been raped on the island by Harry Hook."

"And her part?" her eyebrows raise.

Ben wets his lips, before he shakes his head, "It's nothing."

She moves forward and sits in the chair across from him, "Please. Talk to me."

He sighs, looking off, "When I was having a harder time with English, I was avoiding Mal, and probably because of what happened to her…" He meets her warm brown eyes, "Mal thought that because I'm a guy that I'd like her more if she was more… physical."

Her expression fills with more concern, somehow, "What happened?"

"Nothing," Ben looks off. "Evie stopped her." He hears his mother breathe in relief, "But it was close… Really close."

"So, now you're avoiding her?" she assumes.

"No," Ben frowns. "I'm really not. It's just…" He shakes his head, "Why does so much always have to be going on in my life?"

"Are there other things?" she inquires.

Ben faces her. It's nothing. It's always nothing when it comes to his father. That's been made perfectly clear. His eyes shift, "Feels like it."

"You're young," she excuses. "It will feel like less when you have more experience." He stays quiet, and she questions, "What Mal tried to do, do I need to worry?"

"Worry about what?"

"That she'll try it again," she explains. "That you two are still together after all this."

"I've hurt her too," Ben reminds her. "We just need to learn how to talk to each other, which we can do now that my English is better."

"So, what she tried to do didn't impact you at all?" she makes sure.

Ben frowns, "Of course, it's impacted me. She was kissing me to the point where I could barely get a word out, grinded as she sat on me, and I was already injured." He meets her eyes, "But I had neglected her of heat, she was drunk, and… I never directly said no."

"You shouldn't have had to," she sympathizes.

"But I should have been able to," he counters. "I should've been able to say stop, and I should have been able to sound sure of my decision."

"When someone doesn't know if they want sex or not," his mother asserts, "the default is not to have it. She should have stopped on her own and being drunk is no excuse."

Ben's quiet for a moment, observing her stern expression, "Being neglected of heat was a good enough excuse when she'd attempted to do it with Audrey."

His mother sighs, "Honey." Her wavy, brown hair touches the yellow straps on her pale shoulders, and when he forces his eyes to the desk, he notices the gold ring on her finger. If he could just reach out and hold her soft, cool hand, then it'd be okay. If he could just reach out to hold her hand, stand up to hug her, and then just stay with her, it's not something he can do. "Honey?" He frowns back up at her. "What's wrong?"

"I'm sad," he admits.

"Why?" He looks down at her hand, and when it moves to hold onto his he looks back up at her. "Honey, you can talk to me."

He faces her, tears intruding his eyes, before he whispers, "There's something wrong with me."

"How do you mean?"

He shakes his head, half laughing, "I don't know."

When he looks back down his mother places a hand to his face, lifting it back up so his eyes meet hers, "You will always be my son, and nothing can change that. You know that?"

Ben grins in disbelief, "Yeah." before he gulps. "I know."

* * *

When Ben sees Mal frown he questions, "What's wrong?"

She faces him, "I guess, I just don't really get why you didn't come to me." before she examines his expression. "You say you don't like Chad like that, but how could you go to him instead of me, then?"

"Mal." Ben wets his lips, "I needed someone to talk to, someone who could listen."

Mal's eyes shift as she frowns, "I'd like to listen." Ben doesn't say anything, so she pleads, "Would you talk to me?" and when he fails to she rolls her eyes. "I'm starting to get why Audrey felt devalued."

"Devalued?" Ben questions.

"Worthless," Mal hisses. "Like nothing. You made her feel like nothing, because you ignored her, and you never, ever let her in."

"Do you feel devalued?" he frowns.

"Starting to?" she laughs, before Ben takes her hands. "Just talk to me. I want to listen. I want to be able to be the one to listen, for once. I mean, that would help you, right? It would help us, right?"

"You haven't done anything wrong," he tries to reassure her.

"Recently, you mean."

He sees the tears in her eyes, "I'll talk. Okay?" before he wipes the tears from her face.

Mal gulps as she nods, trying to pull herself together, before he takes a breath, "So, uh, what did you tell Chad?" Ben opens his mouth to speak, but no words come out. "Please. I want you to be able to come to me next time."

"I don't really know how to say it," Ben eyes down.

"You told Chad."

"In French," he tiredly states.

"Try," Mal insists. "I want to know."

Ben faces her, and as his heart races he squeezes her hands, "It's just my father, you know." He hesitates, "I'm never good enough for him. I, uh, could do everything right, and then he'll find something else. It's too much. That's why I ran away."

"You ran away?" Mal questions.

"But I'm king now," Ben continues. "I could never do that now."

"So, you came back," her eyes shift in realization.

It takes him a minute to say, "I'm really tired. I'm always just so tired, but I can't sleep. I've been trying to, but it's worse now that I'm here."

"Sounds like Jay and his father," Mal notices.

He pauses, "What did his father do?"

"He would only let Jay eat if he stole enough for the shop," she recalls. "Jay couldn't sleep, because he was afraid he'd miss something important, some mood change. When he would sleep, he'd get woken up by breaking objects or yelling." Mal faces Ben, "What does your father do to you?"

"He just keeps telling me how I've failed, gives false answers to problems I couldn't know about until after it happened." His eyes shift, "I make one mistake, and he talks about it for months. I do something good, and then he wants me to do better the next time."

Mal notices him eye the ground, "Anything else?" and when Ben faces her she notices his eyes gleam with tears.

His heart beats incredibly fast, making it hard to breath, "I…" He attempts a large breath, his mind completely empty of thoughts as it clutters with the knowledge of what's happened. "He tells me how I will make this country bad, that I'm going to make everyone dead." He laughs, "He'll tell me how I'm going to die just for being so… and…"

"Ben," Mal quietly comments, as she notices him shake and holds onto his arms.

The tears fall from his eyes, "I'm starting to think that the only way for him to stop telling me I'm going to die, that I'll make the people die, is if it finally happens." He shakes his head, "Because, I've just been waiting for it to happen, and I don't get how it couldn't have happened after all of this time."

Mal feels him shake more and moves in to wrap her arms around him, "Your father doesn't know what he's talking about."

"I just wish it'd just happen," Ben sobs. "I wish the country turned to fire, everyone died, and everything goes to ash. Because, then, it would be over."

She rubs a fist up and down his back, "It's going to be okay."

"It's never going to be over," his pitch raises as he crackly whispers.

"It's not going to happen," she reassures. "You don't need to worry about it."

"You could do it for me," he solves. "Light the country on fire for me, let me die with it."

Mal hugs him tighter, "Sorry. I don't have fire breath… or the wingspan to cover the whole country."


	6. Step Down

**Step Down **

**(Thursday Afternoon, June 20****th****)**

After Ben kisses Mal again she tugs on his tie, "How about we take this somewhere more private?" before her eyes move towards his bedroom.

"Oh," he realizes. "I don't know." He attempts to smile, before he places a hand to her cheek and moves in for another kiss.

Mal stops him, "Ben. It's not fair that we're always in my room."

"Look," he tries to excuse, "I have a meeting soon."

"And when it's over," she irritably points out, "I will still not have seen your room." He looks away. "Come on. It's like I don't even know you."

He swiftly turns back to her, "How can you say that?"

Mal frowns, "You're honest, sweet, and loyal enough." before she rolls her eyes. "And I love that, but I know nothing about what you like or who you really are."

His mouth opens, and it takes him a minute to say, "Seeing my room won't help."

"It's your space," she rationalizes. "It reflects who you are, the colors you use and the activates you do— besides tourney." She takes his hand, "Please. I want to know you."

Ben deeply frowns, "Okay." before he leads her to his room, blocks the door, and turns around. "But, there really is nothing to see." He hears her breathe in disbelief, and he opens the door to enter the large room. There's the bed, his desk by the window, a television on the wall, and a weight-lifting machine, all in the country colors. Ben turns and watches as Mal walks into the room in uncertainty, a frown framing her face.

"Wow." She quietly comments, "It's, uh, well, pretty bland."

When she looks at him Ben takes a moment, "I did tell you."

She looks over the room again, before she grins and strides over to the foosball table. She turns one of the knobs, "This looks cool. You play?"

Ben takes a step forward, "Not really." and Mal immediately gapes at him. "It's a, uh, birthday present." He walks over and looks down at it, "I got it in middle school. My mother said I couldn't give it away."

"If you're not going to use it," Mal questions, "then why not?"

It takes him a minute to remember, "Manners. She said it wouldn't be nice." before his eyebrow raises. "But if I tell her I grew out of it and tell her I want to give it to… charity, then maybe she'll let me." He lets out a breath, "It'd be really nice to get this thing out of here."

"Jay would probably like it," Mal solves, before she meets his hazel green eyes. "Your mom wouldn't even have to know." She notices his unsureness, "If you don't want to—"

"It's not that," he quickly says, before he stares down at the game. "I think… I think I'm just afraid to."

"Because of your mother," Mal assumes.

He faces her, "Because I'd have to say why. Because… I'd be asked questions." Ben shakes his head, "I don't like questions."

"Soo," Mal eyes him, "why are you afraid that people are going to ask questions about why you don't want the…" She glances down at it, "Whatever that is."

"I don't know," Ben looks off, before he takes a deep breath and faces her. "Look. You want to know who I am? I'm a king. That's who I am. That's the role I play."

"So, which is it?" she frowns. "Is it who you are or who you pretend to be?"

Ben's eyes shift, "I don't know." before he pulls at the neck of his tie. "I hate these things. It's like it's choking me."

"Then why do you wear it?" she squints.

"It's part of the outfit."

"You wore it at school," she points out.

"It's part of the outfit," he repeats, before he checks his watch and sighs, "I'm late. I've got to go." He moves to kiss her on the cheek, "Love you. See you later." and Mal leans on the foosball table as she watches him hurry out of the room.

Her mouth gapes as her eyes shift, "Right." before she shakes her head, eyes the tables, and walks out of the room before going to knock on Jay's door.

After the third time knocking, he opens the door, "Hey."

"Feel like stealing something?" she quickly questions.

He hesitates, "I don't think—"

"There's this cool game table in Ben's room," she explains. "I think you would like it."

"I'm not stealing from Ben," Jay says, before he notices Mal scratch at her forehead and takes her hand away from it. "Hey. Don't do that." She takes a deep breath. "What's wrong?"

Mal faces him, "Ben doesn't even want it. You would be doing him a favor."

"Why doesn't he just give it to me, then?" his eyebrows furrow.

"He can't," Mal stresses, before she takes another breath. "Come on. Let's help him."

It takes a moment for Jay to ask, "What happens if we're asked about it?"

"Then, hopefully, Ben says it's okay and that you can keep it," she rushes, her eyes wide in thought.

Jay looks over her, "Okay. I'll help him."

* * *

"Next up," Ben looks down at the paper, and his brows crease. "Sorry. I don't remember this word."

After he looks up at King Charming and says the French word, the other king seems surprised, "Apartments? Like, those apartments for the homeless?"

"Right," Ben slowly says in recollection. "So." He clears his throat, "The apartments are going to start… they're going to be start to be built this summer." He shakes his head, placing a hand to his head and staring down at the paper.

After a minute King Charming speaks, and Ben slowly looks up in disbelief. He doesn't understand half of the words, but he recognizes a few. He's listing kingdoms and things like fire and water. He must be talking about the building materials and the costs of everything, maybe. Ben gulps. He thought he was ready. They hadn't met in months. He blamed it on school, hoping that he'd be better by now, but he clearly isn't. He feels his eyes warm, a heaviness sitting inside his chest.

King Charming looks at Ben, "What do you think?"

"Good," Ben managers, before he clears his throat; however, he won't be able to say another word, not without it cracking. He lifts the notebook up, stands from his seat, and then goes to the door. He hears someone ask something, but he doesn't understand. His mind is racing, and he strides through the main floor and into the bathroom. He slides his back down the blue tiles, and his eyes move from the set of sinks to the mirror across from him. He stares at his reflection, the tears streaming from his eyes blurring the picture. The door opens, and he glances at King Charming before looking back at the reflection, his arms wrapped around his knees.

"Hey." He kneels next to him, "What's wrong?"

Ben swallows, "I can't speak English." and his breaths shake. "I thought I could, but I still can't."

"Because you fell down the stairs."

He finds himself repulsed by the notion, "What?"

"That's what you said, wasn't it?" he inquires. "In the interview you said that when you fell down the stairs you got a concussion."

"Right," Ben shuts his eyes in realization. "I fell." He remembers how his father had backed him up to the stairs and how he hadn't the sense to simply walk down them, before he places his forehead onto his knees. "Can you go, please?"

"You haven't dismissed the council meeting, yet."

"You can do it," he delegates.

"Was the apartments your last discussion point?" he unsurely asks.

"No," Ben sniffles, before he lifts his head. "Word has it that Camelot is still warring with the dragons."

"You gave him a direct order to stop," King Charming sternly states. "As king of the country, you need to take a stand." Ben shakes his head. "He disobeyed you. That means he thinks he's better than you. If you let him, you'll appear weak."

His father's words. Ben shouts at him, "I don't care." before he laughs and his eyebrows rise. "Do I look like I'm in any condition to face off the Almighty Arthur? I could barely get through my own notes. How am I supposed to debate him?"

It takes a minute for him to suggest, "King Ben." and he looks back at him. "This country needs a strong leader, someone who can hold us together, keep Camelot and others from deviating." He hesitates, "Maybe, if you're not in the condition to act as king right now, then you should step down for a while."

"And what?" Ben's mouth gapes. "Give the crown back to my father? He'd drop this homeless apartment initiative the first second he gets, and they need this."

"Things will be worse if wars break out," he concerns.

"Anger does not keep people together," Ben defends. "It breaks people apart."

He takes a moment, "I know that giving up power can be hard—"

"I'll never get it back," his eyes widen. "My father would never let it go. Not again."

"Ben," he tries to reason. "You are your father's only son. You will inherit the crown no matter what."

"The people can't wait that long," he strongly disagrees.

King Charming takes a moment, "I don't think this is about the people."

Ben shakes his head, "What else would it be about?"

"You're afraid to let go of your position."

Ben thinks, "It's just." before his eyes meet his. "Who am I if I'm not king?"

"Well," he questions back, "who were you before?"

Nothing. Ben can't think of anything. "I was a prince," he mumbles. "I was a tourney player. I was…" He shakes his head, "I spent my entire life training to be king. Now I am, I can't just give it up. It's who I am."

"It's not all you are," he counters.

"No," Ben evenly denies. "It is all I am. And, right now, it's all I care about. The idea that I get to help people, the entire country, that's what gets me up in the morning." He nods in thought, "I'm king, and that's not going to change. Not right now and definitely not if the crown goes back to my father."

"What's wrong with your father?" he frowns.

"Nothing," Ben answers in irritation. "Haven't you seen the statues, the paintings, and the news specials? He's a great man. He always has been."

King Charming shakes his head, failing to understand, "Ben."

He stands from the floor and walks by him, "I'll dismiss the council myself."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 03/09/2019


	7. Hold Me Down

**Hold Me Down **

**(Thursday Night, June 20th)**

Ben shuts his eyes as he lays on the bed, the sweet, smoky scent hovering over him. His teeth tense, and when his mouth opens at the pain, he breathes it in. His eyes open and his breathing increases, before he flips Mal onto her back and rolls over.

"Uh. Ben?"

He sucks on her neck, and he can feel the jugular beat below the skin.

"Ben," Mal stresses. "I— I don't think I like this."

His mouth opens wide, but when he goes to satisfy his teeth's need to bite, he feels the force on his chest. He's pushed away from it, and when he sits up on the other end of the bed he notices her face. She's horrified, and yet his eyes move down to her bare neck. He shakes his head, before he grabs a blanket and wraps it around her naked torso. She continues to look at him in horror, her eyes widened and her face turned with caution. "Mal?" She still doesn't speak, and he hesitates, "Are you okay?"

"You cannot hold me down like that," she loudly says. "You can't do that."

"I wasn't trying to," Ben slowly excuses, before his eyes shift. A moment passes before he looks back up at her, and he sees the tears in her eyes, "Mal?" She looks away, and Ben wets his lips, "It's him, isn't it? I made you think of him."

She faces him and whispers, "I can't be held down." before her eyes lower. "I need a way… a way out."

"Okay," Ben reassures. "I… I understand." She looks at him but doesn't speak. "I'm sorry. I promise I wasn't trying to…" He makes a noise, "I don't know what got into me."

"You're a guy," Mal points out. "That's what's wrong with you." He stays silent, merely watching as she gets off the bed, puts her clothes back on, and heads for the door.

"Mal," Ben urgently calls, as he recalls the foosball table, and she halts with her hand on the door. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Mal manages, before she leaves and shuts the door.

* * *

"So, I got fruit, vegetables, and general baking stuff for you, chocolate snacks for Carlos, microwave meals for Jay, and milk and juice for everyone." He places the last items in the fridge, closes it, and then turns to Evie, "If there's anything else you need, let me know."

"Thank you," she quietly comments.

Ben notices her frown and leans on the counter, "So, how have you been doing?"

She shakes her head, "What do you mean?"

"The eating thing," Ben unsurely clarifies. "How have you been, uh, feeling lately?"

"Fine, I guess."

"You guess?"

She takes a moment, "A little bit bad today, not in a good way." before she faces him. "Could I maybe get a blender?"

"Yeah. Of course," Ben immediately responds, and then she nods. "Look. Uh-em." He scratches the back of his head, "I know it's hard, but I'm glad you're trying. It'll be good."

"Right," Evie's eyes shift down, before she deflects, "How are you doing?"

He thinks, "With what?"

"Well, you weren't eating before," she reminds him, "and Mal tells me you have this thing where you'll try to eat to make up for not eating?"

"She told you?" She gives him a look, and his frown deepens, "It hasn't changed." He meets her dark eyes, "Food just isn't very… important to me, I guess, so I forget. And then, I… I, um…"

"Try to catch up?" she helps.

Ben stays quiet for a minute, "Look. I'm… I'm fine. I've always done it. It'll be okay."

Evie's eyebrows raise, "If you say so."

"What's that mean?"

She faces him, "I just don't think it's fair that I need to try and you don't."

Ben leans in, "I don't have a problem."

Evie crosses her arms, "Maybe I don't either."

"Your anorexia almost killed you," he growls, before he places a hand to his neck and clears his throat. "Sorry. Probably had too much milk." He notices her eye him in suspicion, "My point is, you almost died. Me. Well, I don't have any problems like that."

"The way you eat isn't a problem?" Evie doubts, and he looks off. "You don't even believe it."

He shakes his head, and his voice raises in pitch, "I'm not me, okay? The way I eat, when and how I do it, it's not me." He feels the tears intrude his eyes, "It usually happens on accident, and when I try to get… control over it— when I plan the binges— there's still just this thing inside me that takes over and wipes my mind clean. I watch. I see, but I can't stop it."

Evie lets out a breath, "You need to ignore that voice. It's going to tell you to do a bunch a stupid stuff, but you can't. If you do, it'll drag you to a dark place."

It takes a minute for Ben to half laugh, "I have no voice. It's just a feeling. It's…" He places a hand to his head, "What is that word?" He drops his arm to his side and wets his lips, "Intent. It's a feeling of intent, a strong one. And it just takes over." The tears fall to his cheeks, "I don't know how to stop it."

"It must still feel different than you," she assumes. "Know that, think it through, so you can stop it ahead of time."

He tries to steady his breathing, "I've been doing this longer than I can remember." before he shakes his head and his voice crackles. "It's a part of me." He whispers, "I can't fight it. Because, even when I do stop it, it's already won."

When he continues to cry Evie moves in to hug him, "Hey. It's going to be okay."


	8. I'm Good with It

**I'm Good with It **

**(Friday Afternoon, June 22****nd****)**

After Ben presses all eight keys on the piano and leans his head on the bottom of the music rack his father comments, "That will happen when you don't practice for a year."

Ben immediately straightens up and turns towards him, his eyes wide, before he slowly states, "I practiced for last Christmas."

His father nods, "Forgive me." before his blue eyes pierce at him. "Half a year." Ben wets his lips, but before he's able to speak his father steps forward, "You know you're welcome here. You can practice any time you need to."

It takes a moment for Ben to mention, "I had homework."

"And whose fault was that?" He strides forward, and Ben holds his breath and swallows before eyeing down on the white and black keys. "You took too many classes, and look where it's gotten you."

Ben yells at him, "I was just trying to please you."

"You were trying to prove you're better than me," he slowly shouts back.

Ben mutters, "That's not at all the truth."

"What have I told you?" his father continues. "A jack of all trades is a master of none, and then you do this. You take all of those extra courses, and now you're unprepared. You're unprepared for being king, and you're unprepared for life." Ben keeps his eyes down, but they lift when his father steps in front of the black piano. His hands run over the surface, "You know, the piano was your mother's idea. Stimulates brain function, she said." before he faces him. "When you fail to practice this, you don't disrespect me. You disrespect her." Ben looks down from him, but he can still feel his heavy presence. "Well, then. I will leave you to it."

* * *

"So," Mal thinks, "what do I do? Where will it be?"

"It will be here, downstairs," Ben answers. "Since it's your first one, I've talked with Rachael. She's really nice. She… interviewed me when I was little. Everything is pre…" He wets his lips, "Everything is videoed before it's put out, so don't worry. All you have to do is be yourself, and she will make you look good."

"Right," Mal nervously laughs.

Ben takes her hands, "You're going to be great." but then he lets go and frowns. "Um. Are…" He meets her green eyes, "Are we okay?" She doesn't speak. "Because, yesterday—"

"We're fine, Ben," she quickly comments, before her eyes shift. "You were right." She pauses as she faces him, "It's not about you. Really."

Ben nods, "Okay." before he smiles. "I'm really glad to hear that."

Mal notices him suddenly frown, "What is it?"

"So," he hesitates, "it doesn't, you don't mind that I'm a… a guy?"

"No." Mal laughs, "Why? Does it bother you?" and when he fails to respond she frowns. "That was supposed to be a joke."

"Oh, yeah," Ben's eyebrows furrow. "No. I'm, uh, good. I'm good with it."

"Okay, then," Mal's eyes widens as they shift away.

Ben's eyes transfix on her brown curls, and when he brings his hand to them she looks back at him. He runs his fingers through as he places a piece behind her ear, and he looks into her sparkling eyes before he quietly asks, "Can I kiss you?"

Mal smiles, "Yes, Ben. You can kiss me." and with that he leans forward, shuts his eyes, and their lips touch.

* * *

-** VannahLeigh495** I wholeheartedly agree with you.

\- **Posted**: 02/12/2019


	9. Word of the Believers

**Word of the Believers **

**(Saturday Afternoon, June 22****nd****)**

When the blond reporter outstretches her arm Mal shakes her hand and uncomfortably smiles. The woman questions, "How are you today?"

"Not sure," Mal nervously smiles.

They sit down in the alcove area, and the interviewer smiles back, "Don't worry. No one's watching yet." Mal nods, and she takes a breath, "Why don't we start with your charge? How have you been fairing with the conditions of your parole?"

Mal squeezes her hands together as she frowns, "A little hard." before she looks back at her in hesitance. "I have to take my temperature twice a day, and I have to make sure those temperatures don't become too low. And, uh, a little while ago I got sick." She glances down, "Actually, I got sick a couple times." Mal frowns at her, "It's harder to keep my temperature up when I'm sick, and one day when I was so out of it, I only got one reading. And I, um… I hope I don't get in trouble for that."

"But otherwise," she inquires, "you've been doing well?"

Mal nods, "Yeah. I think so."

"And you and Princess Audrey," she continues, "have you spoken since the incident?"

"Yeah," Mal unsurely states. "We have."

"And are you on good terms now?"

Mal recalls how Audrey had warned her of Ben's emotional neglectfulness, "I'm not sure." She frowns, "Audrey really tried to get to know and to help me, and I was trying to get along with her…"

"But?" she prods on.

Mal continues to frown, "I feel like she had another reason. It felt like she didn't mean it. Not that I blame her, but the whole thing just made me confused." Mal's eyes shift down, "I still don't know if she hates me or not."

"Will you be speaking to her again?"

Mal meets her honey brown eyes, "Unfortunately." and when the reporter doesn't comment Mal remembers. "She has a lot of people who care about her, which is honestly hard." She feels her eyes burn, and she keeps her eyes open to prevent tears, "There was even this one servant of hers who was with us at dinner." She laughs, "And he poisoned me."

"He poisoned you?" her mouth gapes.

"With cyanide," she informs, "and then Audrey fired him."

The reporter scoots to the edge of her seat, "Mal. This is a good time to get the country to get to know you better. It's not a good time for stories."

"I know no one will believe me," Mal glances down. "That's why I didn't report the guy. No one ever has. That's why I don't ask for help… anymore." She faces her, "But I'm not going to lie, because I like to say it. I wanted to say that this happened to me, because there's been other things no one believed. This, it just proves Auradon isn't any better than the Isle. Because, the fact is if I were anything other than a dragon hybrid, then I'd be dead right now. And because no one believes me, just like I wasn't believed on the Isle, I have no reason to lie." Mal remembers her talk with Uma, "I have no reason to lie, because it's nothing more than another story, and I get to continue on with my day because it never really happened."

"So, which is it?" she questions. "Did it or did it not happen?"

Mal's quiet for a minute, before she eyes past the woman, "As my mother would say, history is written by the word of the believers. So, if what I went through isn't believed, then it never happened." She thinks, "The guys who did those things won't be punished and the girls who weren't on my side won't be criticized, because nothing ever happened." Mal swallows, before the tears escape and she whispers, "Because, it only happened here." She points to her temple, "It's up here, and if I live years, decades, or centuries… I'll never be able to forget."

After a moment the blond comments, "You said that on the Isle of the Lost no one believed you. Would you like to tell us what you mean by that?"

When Mal hunches over and sobs into her hands Ben steps into view of the camera and goes to sit next to her. He whispers her name, and she turns into him, head on his shoulder, before he wraps his arms around her and rubs her back.

* * *

After Ben knocks again, he calls, "Mal." but there's still no answer. He slowly opens the door, finding her to be nowhere in sight, before he says her name again and walks inside. There's that scent, her scent. He notices the open bathroom door and walks towards it, "Mal." but when he gets to the arch his mouth gapes.

Mal looks up and notices him place a hand on the doorframe, "Ben?"

There's so much blood, dripping from the razor in her hand and puddling from the cuts on her pale legs. He grips the doorframe harder, as the scent overpowers him. He must get out of there, but he can't. He's stuck in that spot, transfixed on the red. There it is, right there. His grip loosens on the wood with each breath. All he has to do is let go, and he will have it. He lets go and steps forward, gazing over her, before he kneels. Tears stain her face, and when his eyes meet the blade, he slowly takes it. The red on it, he brings it to his lips and cleans it away, before he sets it down on the tub, leaning on the edge before meeting her curious expression.

"Ben?"

He eyes back down at the cuts covering her thighs, and he leans in towards one near her knee, sucking the blood from the wound. It's quiet as he works his way up the puddles, and he swallows the taste of the sweet smokiness.

"Ben," Mal says again, and when he hears her concern he meets her eyes. "I know this might sound strange, but are you okay?"

He glances down as he steps in his place, putting his hand back on the doorframe. He faces her and hesitates, "I was going to ask you the same thing."

"You know about this," she reminds him.

He slightly shakes his head, "I thought Evie was helping you."

Mal's quiet for a moment, "Should would have if she were here." and when Ben doesn't speak she looks over him. "I'm scaring you."

"No," he quickly reassures. "It's just." He feels the pain in his stomach and shuts his eyes hard, holding his breath.

"Ben?"

"I have to go," he uncomfortably states, before he turns around, hurries out of the room, and heads for the kitchen. He looks through the fridge, the cupboards, and the freezer, but nothing compares. He turns around and crunches down to the ground, wrapping his arms around his knees and shutting his eyes. It hurts. It really hurts.

* * *

"Ben?" Ben makes a noise, before he squints his eyes open. "King Ben?"

Towering over him is a guy with dirty blond hair, dark blue eyes, and a dishwashing apron, "Chip?" He places a hand to his head, "What are doing?"

"My mother wanted me to cook the dinner tonight," he informs, because he tilts his head in curiosity. "Sir, what are you doing there?"

"Simple," Ben says as he stands up. "When I'm hungry my body thinks the best thing to do is sleep until I'm not."

He chuckles, "Anything in mind for tonight?"

Ben frowns. He's really not in the mood for anything. Anything he can have, that is. He looks over the employee, as he catches the scent of berries and sugar. He eyes his neck. He could have it right now. He could have it right now, and no one would know.

"Sir?"

He shakes his head, "Yeah, um. No." before he attempts to smile, "Surprise me."

"Yes, sir."

Ben walks past him, and his expression falls. He's completely exhausted. All he wants to do is go back to his bed, fantasize about the delicious liquid, and hope for it to be real. He will dream of impossible situations where it will happen, because it's a lot better than thinking about how hungry he is now and how there's no way to get what he really wants. Butchers are out, because it's too public. Donors are out, because he's too afraid to ask. All he has is sleep.

* * *

\- **Next Up**: what do you think of angels? It had to have come from somewhere, right? Stay tuned for a hybrid interpretation of it. Not every detail about "angels" will be released in this fic, but if you have an amazing memory, you will find that these characters are somewhat reoccurring... like, once every fic, let's say. Lol. Time for Mal and Jay to go back to Subway.


	10. He was Always There

**He was Always There **

**(Sunday Afternoon, June 23****rd****)**

When Mal enters the shop everyone's eyes move to her. Jay whispers, "Ignore them." and her eyes move to the blond girl behind the counter. She's smiling with bright blue eyes. Mal takes a deep breath before moving forward, and Jay follows her to the order station.

Mal observes the girl. She's too happy. "You're new."

Her smile widens, "My name's Kerrin. I'm helping out my Uncle Orland this summer."

Mal's eyebrows furrow as her mouth cracks open, "Yeah. I think he mentioned you."

"Would you like the usual?" she inquires.

She looks at Jay, "The usual?" and he shrugs.

"A toasted turkey and ham sandwich on flatbread with cheddar cheese, a mountain dew, and a chocolate milk," Kerrin answers.

"Um," Jay interrupts. "How do you know what we get?"

She looks at Mal, "My uncle and I saw your interview. Very powerful. I know you will have a good influence on the royal family."

"That still doesn't explain how you know our order," she slowly points out.

"Uncle Orland made a point to tell me about you," she excitedly explains. "It's so good to know there's someone like me in an influential position."

"You hear that?" Jay inserts. "You have influence."

Mal frowns, "I haven't really done anything."

"But you've done so much," Kerrin emphasizes. "Princess Audrey's petition to force hybrids out of hiding could have been a gateway to keeping us from any promising opportunities, people finding us to do evil—"

"But you're not in hiding," Mal points out.

The blond girl frowns, "I attend college in Charmington. No one there really knows about me… Except my boyfriend, and he didn't really react well." She attempts to smile, "But I'm going to a public school, so at least if I'm outed, they can't make me leave… yet."

"So, what?" Mal questions. "You're hiding out here for the summer from your boyfriend?"

She makes a noise, "It's not that simple. It's just…" Kerrin shakes her head, "You know, if he wants to apologize, he knows where to find me. Until then, I'm just waiting for the text."

"The text?" Jay inquires.

Tears start to gleam in her eyes, "For him to say that the three years we were together meant nothing, because he didn't know he was with a…"

"There's no need to explain," Mal quickly comments. "I get it."

A tear falls to her girl's cheek, before she wipes it away and pulls herself together, "So. Your order, then?"

"You can leave out the milk," Mal comments, before she holds up the water bottle. "I brought my own drink."

She sadly grins with a nod, "Got it."

When she starts to prepare the sub Jay turns towards Mal, "Is that what I think it is?" and when she doesn't respond he shakes his head. "We had an agreement."

"I can't let Ben see it," Mal excuses.

"The point was for me to get you to have it less." He irritably states, "When you keep it in that bottle, it's a crutch."

"When I don't keep it in the bottle," Mal points out, "the maid will search my room and tell Ben's family about it."

He breathes, "Maybe you should just tell him, get it over with."

Mal rolls her eyes, "Ben has enough of his own problems."

Jay hesitates, "Ruby told me that a relationship is about going through life together." and Mal intently listens. "Your problems are his now, and his are yours. When you decide to spend your life with someone, you have the same life. Your problems will impact each other."

"God, Jay," Mal cringes. "Are you marrying this princess?"

"I mean," he shrugs, "it is kind of a requirement for royals to get married, isn't it?"

The blond returns to them, "Here you go." and Jay hands the money to her before heading off to a round, private table.

Mal sits across from him, "I'm just saying, these people don't have our experiences. When people get involved in serious shit they die. I don't want that for Ben."

"You think your drinking problem could get him killed?" Jay's eyebrows raise.

She looks off, "You know what I mean."

"Yeah," Jay nods. "You're making excuses, because you don't want to let him in."

"I'll let him in when he lets me in," Mal counters, and Jay gives a look. "You should have heard him the other day about how 'I am a king and that's all I am'." She shakes her head, "Hell. I don't even really know his favorite color, because just about everything he owns is in the country colors. And I don't know what he likes, because he never really does anything. Okay? It's like I don't even know him, and what? I'm supposed to give all my cards away first, before I even really know anything about him?"

The bell on the door rings as heavy footsteps are heard, and when Mal looks over she notices the brown-haired guy with the handgun. He lifts it up, and she eyes over to where it points. The girl with the blond hair glows, and then she is gone; however, the gun still fires and her uncle falls to the floor. Mal stands, pacing over to the shooter, before he turns, his eyebrows furrow, and he aims for her. "Stop," Mal yells, as she pierces into his blue eyes. He charges forward. "Stand still." He does as he's told, and she notes the fear in his eyes before taking the gun from his hand and placing it onto the table.

"Uncle Orland," Mal hears the girl, and she turns around to find Kerrin kneeling over him. A light radiates from her hands, as she holds them over his bleeding chest. Mal slowly steps towards her. Her uncle's expression has frozen to one of shock, and he isn't moving. Mal hesitates, "Kerrin."

"I can save him," she asserts as tears flow from her eyes. "I can heal him."

Mal notices the light get brighter and brighter, but there's no affect. All that energy she's giving up, whatever ability she's putting it into isn't doing anything. It's just flowing back into the air, making the room brighter and brighter still. "Kerrin. You're going to hurt yourself." She continues to do it, and Mal places her hands on her shoulders, "You have to stop. He's dead. Okay? There's nothing you can do."

"He was always there for me," she whispers.

Mal notices the light dim, before another burst radiates from her hands, "Kerrin. Stop." She doesn't listen, and Mall pulls her chin so that her shiny, blue eyes meet hers. She glows her vibrant green ones, "Stop. Right now." Mal lets go of her, but Kerrin just looks back at her uncle and continues to emit the light.

Jay steps forward and quietly says, "Why didn't it work?"

"It doesn't work on Evie either," Mal informs. "Maybe whatever she is, there's a lot of mind power to it."

He notices the light dim and the girl weaken, "Mal?" before she moves her eyes from him to the girl, the girl falls over, and Mal catches her head before it hits the stone floor.

"Is she okay?" Jay worries.

"I don't know," Mal quietly comments, before she checks her pulse. "But she's alive."

* * *

"He was always there," Kerrin whispers, as she sits in the chair.

The officer continues, "And it was your boyfriend who shot him?"

"I shouldn't have teleported," she cries. "He was aiming for me. I should be dead right now, not him."

"With all due respect," the officer responds, "if your boyfriend was aiming for you, you moved out of the way, and he managed to kill your uncle, it sounds like he's just a lousy shot."

"I probably wouldn't have even died," she realizes. "I'd probably just been hospitalized for a bullet in my shoulder."

She breaks down, and the offer lets out a breath, "Look. I know this is hard, but if you want justice for what's happened here, we're going to need every detail we can get."

Ben turns back to Mal, "You said she passed out?"

"Magic needs energy to be performed," Mal informs. "She used all of hers."

"So, she's a fairy, then?" he questions.

"No." Mal eyes over to the blond girl, "I don't know what she is."

"Look," Ben places his hands on her shoulders. "You're going to be asked a lot of questions. I want you to be good, and be honest. Even if they get off track."

Mal meets his hazel green eyes, "Are they going to use this against me?"

"Saving a shop full of people?" his eyebrows raise. "You better hope they use this against you. Maybe they'll take a month off your sentence."

She huffs, "I doubt that."

Ben lifts a shoulder, "You never know. I'll put in a good word with Audrey for you." Mal stays quiet, and he places a clump of her curly brown hair behind her ear. "Who knows? Maybe if we have enough time this summer, we can get away and I could show you the world I rule."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 03/16/2019

\- **Megan** I'm glad you're enjoying the stories so far. I did try to look up your stories, but your username isn't linked to a profile and I couldn't find the story name you gave. Do you post to a different site? I'd like to at least see what your stories are about.

\- So, I've been having a real problem with the image editor on this site, hence why I have yet to upload the image for this story. I could just edit it separately, but then the text won't match. I'd really like to use the text font from the online editor here. Is anyone else having issues? It's been the case where it just doesn't save, like it takes forever to load. I've left it saving while I went to work, and when I came home it was still saving. This last time I tried it didn't even let me type in any text. Does anyone know what's going on with it?


	11. I Don't have Your Power

**I Don't have Your Power **

**(Monday Evening, June 24****th****)**

"Did you ever find out what she was?" Jay questions.

Mal sits on the bed, "It's not like I was going to interrogate her after what happened, but I did look up her abilities."

"So?" Carlos prompts.

She hesitates, "There was this forum of people who claimed to have her abilities, and they call themselves angels."

"Angles?" Jay doubts. "Like Bible angels?"

"Well, obviously, God doesn't exist," Mal quietly asserts, before she looks at him. "But it had to come from somewhere, right?"

"Glowing. Healing. Teleportation," Evie lists. "It makes sense."

"No wings though," Carlos points out.

"That could have easily been a metaphor," Evie solves.

There's a knock on the door, and Mal calls, "Come in."

When Ben enters he frowns, "Having a meeting?"

"Are we safe here?" Evie questions.

"I know my father isn't the most open to outsiders," Ben begins.

"No," Mal asserts, and his eyes meet hers. "Are me and Evie safe in this country?"

Ben wets his lips, "This is about yesterday."

"Her boyfriend tried to kill her," Mal's eyes widen. "Just because she was different."

"I wouldn't do that," Ben calmly comments.

Mal sadly laughs, "I know you wouldn't."

He steps forward and folds his hands, "I know my country has a bad history with dealing with different people, but no one would touch you. Not when you're with me." She looks away in annoyance. "What is it?"

She gives him a look, "I don't know, maybe something with you forgetting that Audrey's servant tried to kill me."

Ben shuts his eyes for a moment, "I didn't forget."

"Oh, really?" she doubts.

"Hey," Carlos interrupts. "What's up with the lights?"

"Yeah." Jay adds on, "Nothing works. I can't even charge my phone."

Ben smiles, "It's Eco Week. We spend the week without things that would hurt it, and we hang out with each other, spend time outside."

"Speaking of which," Ben hears his mother say, and he turns towards her.

"Impeccable timing," he mutters in French.

"Thank you," she smiles, before she hands a bag to every four of them. "And because we will be spending a lot of time outside this week, I thought you could use these."

Ben notices Jay pull red swim shorts from the black bag, "Uh. Mother. They can't swim."

"Then we'll just have to get them a teacher," she solves. "They will be experts by the end of the week."

Mal pulls out the purple bikini, before she notices Evie's aqua one, watching as she moves a hand along her ribs and pinching her stomach. Mal gapes at Ben with pleading eyes, and he mentions, "Mother. They dress conservatively. You know that."

"It's a swimsuit, Ben," she reminds him. "It's not meant to be conservative." She notices the girls' uncomfortableness, "This is the one time you can show your bodies and be proud without being ridiculed."

"It's going to make me look fat," Evie claims as she puts hers back in the pink bag.

Mal puts hers back as well, "I have too many scars."

"I see," Belle frowns. "Well. What would you like? Would a one-piece work?"

Evie whispers to Mal, "What's a one-piece?"

"Okay." Ben steps forwards, "Mother. I think I'll just take them shopping. Okay?"

She turns to him, "You don't need to do that."

"You're not spending any more of your money," he asserts, before he quiets. "I've got this. I can get them." He notices her begin to tear up, "Mother?"

"It's just," she whispers, "I wanted to be there for you." She looks at the others, "And your friends."

"You are," Ben reassures. "And you don't need to spend your money to be."

She gulps with a slight nod, "Right." before she lets out a breath. "But how? I don't see how I—" She shuts her eyes, and more tears fall.

Ben wipes the tears away, places a hand on her arm, and their eyes meet, "All you need to do is be here." He lets out a breath, realizing that has been somewhat a foreign concept to her. "You know, just help us when we do ask for something. Because, I would guess that they— that we— are the type of people who ask for things only when we really need them." She continues to cry, and he hugs her, "It's okay. So long as you're here, that's what matters." That scent. He wants it. His eyes widen, and he lets go of her, clearing his voice, "Um. So, yeah." He nods down, "I'll just take them to new stuff. Okay?" She doesn't speak, and he takes a step back.

After he leaves the room Carlos questions, "Are you supposed to follow him?"

Mal slowly answers, "I don't think so." before she uncomfortably observes Belle still falling apart. "But I'm not staying here." She walks to the door and looks back, "Jay. Coming?"

Jay walks over and follows her out into the hallway, before he notices Carlos and blocks the doorway. "I don't think so." He shuts the door, and Carlos turns back around. He watches as Evie stands and moves over to Belle.

She can feel an intense sensation coming off from her, "What's wrong?"

"There's only so little I can do," she mutters. "I want so much for him to have a good life. He deserves one— you all do— but…"

When she continues to sob Evie wraps an arm around Belle's waist and leans her head against her shoulder, "You heard him. It's okay."

"He's just saying that," she whispers, and Evie shuts her eyes as the sensation becomes heavier. She takes a deep breath, and there's a cold emptiness. She shivers and takes another breath, as the darkness envelops her. There's nothing more she could do. This place was her last hope, and if it's failed her, she will have nothing left nor anywhere to turn to.

Belle moves, and Evie lets go of her. "I should check on dinner, see when it'll be ready."

When Belle passes him, he watches her leave the room before his eyes move back to Evie. She saunters back to the bed and sits with her hands on the edges. He moves forward, "Evie?" before he notices the tears leave her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I don't know," she whispers.

He glances between the door and her, "You did something." before he walks forward and kneels to see her face. "Hey. What did you do?"

She slightly shakes her head, "I don't know. I just could feel it, and I wanted to make her better… I don't know what happened."

There's a minute of silence, before Carlos remembers the chocolate bar in his pocket, takes it out, and breaks a square off. He hands it to her, "Here." Evie takes a moment before biting into it, and when she does she sobs. Carlos takes the square back from her, placing the rest of it into his own mouth, before he sits next to her and puts an arm over her shoulders. "I wish I knew how to make you better." She continues to cry, and Carlos tightens his hold of her. "But… I don't have your power."


	12. It Will be Yours

**It Will be Yours **

**(Tuesday Afternoon, June 25****th****)**

After Ben opens the door, he notices Evie laying outfits onto the bed, "Hey. Are you ready to go?"

She smiles at him, "Yeah." before it falters. "Oh." She picks up a leather book, walking over before she hands it to him, "I found this."

He takes the brown item, "What is it?"

"Your mother's journal."

Ben darts his eyes back at her, "Her journal?"

Evie hesitates, "I only know, because her name is on the first page." He opens the book and notices the same scribbles repeated throughout the page. "I didn't read it. Obviously. My French is in no way that good yet."

Ben mumbles, "My name is Belle Marie. My father is Maurice Favre. And I—"

She notices his confusion, "What is it?"

He shakes his head, "Nothing. It's just…" He makes a noise and faces her, "It's just… It's almost like she was trying to know who she was."

Evie lifts an eyebrow, "You mean, remember?"

"Yeah," Ben looks off in annoyance. "That word." He breathes in stress, "Where did you say you found this?"

"In one of the drawers."

Ben shakes his head again, "But this wasn't even her room."

Evie shrugs, "Maybe she wanted to keep it safe." before she notices Ben glance over the pages, clearly agitated. "What is it?"

"This doesn't make sense," his eyes widen. "She loves him. This— It didn't happen."

It takes a moment for Evie to ask, "What didn't happen?" She watches as he brings a hand to his head, ranting in French as he sits on the edge of the bed. "Ben?"

He cries, "She just… She thought the worst of him."

Evie sits down next to him and whispers, "Maybe she was wrong." and Ben feels something sink within him. He knows his mother's first assumptions weren't wrong. He just doesn't understand how they could have changed so much. He feels one hand rest on his left shoulder, as another holds his right hand. She tries to do as she did before, take away the pain; however, it's too intense, and she isn't able to keep a steady grasp on it. "I'm sorry."

"It just isn't right," Ben manages, before his pitch raises and the words switch to French as they speed up.

"It's okay," Evie whispers, before she notices Mal enter the doorway, who freezes suddenly and frowns as she eyes over Ben. "It's going to be okay."

* * *

"Yes. I'm fine," Ben reassures again, as they walk towards the clothes. He notices someone snap a picture of him, and his eyes shift, "Or I was." Mal notices the younger boy, before Ben interrupts her field of sight and she watches as he hurries over to some leggings. "So, they actually have pants now for swimming."

Evie takes an electric blue one from the rack, an even expression masking the excitement in her dark eyes, "This will do." She glances around, "Where's the tops?"

"Uh," Ben makes himself known, and she turns to him. He awkwardly smiles, "You might just need a regular shirt to put over the top my mother got you. Sorry." He turns to his girlfriend, "Mal?" before she faces him and hums. "What about you? These should work, right?"

Mal furrows her brows at them, "They look…"

"Great?" Ben attempts to smile.

"Tight," she corrects, as she notes the strange material.

"Don't worry." He informs, "They stretch."

She kneels and stretches a part of the thin material, grimacing, "It's going to cut off my circulation."

"No, it won't," Ben denies.

"And these colors," Mal makes a face at the pink and lavender, before she stands up and shakes her head, "Can't I just get some shorts or something?"

"You mean, swim shorts," Ben's eyebrows raise, as he points to himself. "Like what I have? From the men's section?"

Mal cautiously eyes him and slowly inquires, "Am I not allowed to?"

"Well," Ben uncomfortably comments, "you could." He frowns, "But why would you want to?"

Evie squints at him, "She just told you."

"I know," he shuts his eyes. "It's just—" He takes a breath, "Help me. Please."

Mal nearly rolls her eyes, before she points a hand to the tights, "These colors are nauseating."

"They make her sick," Evie interprets, and Ben's eyes shift between the two.

Mal points her arm to the other section, "All the cool colors are over there, and shorts would actually let me feel my legs."

"Slow down," Ben raises a hand.

She takes a deep breath and irritably states, "I like the colors over there, and I want shorts." She glances at the tights again, "Not an extra pair of skin." Ben still looks confused. "What? Do girls not wear shorts here?"

"No. They do," he begins.

"Just not for swimming," Evie finishes.

Ben lets out a breath and takes Mal's hands, "Look. If you want to wear shorts, I can deal with that. But some people may not like it."

"Who cares what they like?" Mal counters. "I like shorts." She smiles and slips past him, "Actually. I think I saw a pair."

When Evie follows Mal, Ben taps her shoulder and she turns around, "I don't get it. Why doesn't she like the tights being tight? I would think leather to be worse."

"She's worn tights too before," Evie enlightens. "But that was with shorts over them." She eyes her and whispers, "Between you and me, I just don't think she feels like showing off her figure to a bunch of horndogs."

Ben watches as Evie runs to catch up with Mal, before he mutters, "Horndogs?" in perplexation and strides after them.

* * *

"What a great idea." Evie squeals, "These shirts are going to look awesome."

"I know," Mal smiles, checking the basket to make sure all four shirts and five dyes are still there, before she looks around with furrowed eyebrows. "Where's Ben?"

Evie scans the area, before she looks over her shoulder and turns around, "There." Mal faces the other direction and notices Ben staring at an aqua blanket. Mal and Evie give each other a look, both frowning, before they trail back to him. "And Mal said you had no personality," Evie jokes.

Mal widens her eyes, "I did not say that."

When Ben doesn't respond, Evie's expression falls, "Hey."

"Hey," Ben whispers.

"Are you going to get it?" she softly inquires.

It takes him a moment to say, "I can't."

"Why not?" Mal retorts more harshly than she'd meant.

Ben continues to eye the shimmering aqua, "It sparkles."

"So?" Mal prompts.

"So, it's a girl blanket," he shakes his head.

"Blankets have gender now?" Mal's brows furrow as she turns to Evie, and Evie shrugs. She sighs and looks back at Ben, "Look. Do you like the blanket?"

"Yeah," he mumbles.

"Then, get it," she solves.

There's a long pause, before Evie comments, "Maybe he can't." She looks at Mal, "He's sensitive to heat. Maybe he just knows he won't use it."

Ben touches the plush material, "No." and they look at him. "I think it's thin enough."

"Then what's the problem?"

"Mal," Evie hisses.

"What?" she defends. "I don't get it. If he wants it, why doesn't he just take it?"

Evie gives her a look, "Because he's not from the Isle, Mal." Evie lets out a breath, "Ben. It's just a blanket. If you want it, have it."

When he fails to comment, Mal takes out her phone, "That's it. I'm getting Jay."

"No," Ben hurriedly states as he swiftly turns and tries to snatch the phone, but Mal keeps it out of his reach.

When the video of Jay shows, he smiles, "Hey. What's up?" before he frowns at her stress. "Mal?"

"There's this blanket," Mal begins, holding the phone towards it for a minute for Jay to see. "Ben wants it, but he thinks it's too girly."

"Girly?" Jay disbelieves. "It's just a blanket."

"Why don't you try telling him that," she firmly requests before shoving the phone into Ben's hands.

He holds it up and awkwardly smiles, "Hey… man."

"Hey yourself." Ben uneasily laughs, and Jay continues, "Dude, if you want that blanket, just get it."

"I can't," he excuses.

"Can't or won't?" Jay's eyebrows raise, before he points an arm to some random direction. "Back on the Isle I would have killed for a blanket like that."

Mal's eyes widen, and her head slowly turns as she grins and inaudibly hums, "Uh huh."

Ben shakes his head, "You don't get it. My father— If he finds it—"

"Screw your father," Jay angers. "He has no right to tell you what you can and can't have, when to eat, when to sleep—"

"Uh," Ben intrudes. "Is this still about me?" Jay grow quiet, and Ben explains, "He thinks I'm weak enough already."

"Because it's girly?" Mal questions, and Ben looks at her.

"So, girls are weak now?" Evie places a hand on her hip.

Jay oohs, "You're in trouble now."

Ben glances between the three of them, "I'm not saying girls are weak."

"Just that your father will think you're weak if you get a 'girl' blanket," Mal slowly says with finger quotes.

"Yes," Ben lets out, and Mal and Evie give each other a look.

"Okay," Mal settles, as she faces Ben. "Let's say here, this is something only a girl would have. It's a blanket. Your father's not even going to see it."

Evie watches Ben's eyes shift off, "What? Does your father go into your room?"

"Both of my parents do," Ben mumbles, and he looks off again. "Besides, I was thinking more of my… my office." He eyes between them, "I spend a lot of time in there, and it's hard to just sit in a chair all night." He turns to the blanket, "It would be nice to have something nice there at least. I could even have a spot on the floor if I really wanted to." He eyes down, "Or I could get a pullout couch, have my laptop and papers around me on the bed."

"With the blanket," Jay reminds him, and he looks down at him. "Sounds nice."

"You are uptight," Evie notices. "You could really use a way to stretch out."

"And be comfortable," Mal adds on. Ben eyes down in silence, and she inquires, "What are you so afraid of?"

"It's of no use," Ben meets her green eyes. "He would break it, like he breaks everything."

Mal thinks, "Then tell him the blanket was my idea."

"I can't lie," Ben stresses.

"You get the couch," Mal enunciates, "because you want people to be comfortable. Which you do, because it would make you comfortable. And the blanket is my idea, because I'm the one convincing you to get it." Ben still seems unsure, so Mal places her hands on his shoulders. "Hey." He meets her jade eyes again, and she sadly smiles, "Ben. You're more than just a king. You're a person who has wants and needs, and you need to be able to express yourself, let us know who you really are."

"You know who I am," he whispers.

"I know what you value," Mal agrees, "but what I don't know is who you are." She eyes over him, "I know the group of thinking you belong to, but I don't know what makes you, you." He looks down, and she lifts his chin back up, "But I want to."

It takes him a minute to respond, "It's just a blanket."

Mal nods, "Maybe." before she frowns and raises an eyebrow. "But if you really thought that, you wouldn't be hesitating to get it."

"And if it really is just a blanket," Jay intrudes, and Ben looks at him again, "then there's no reason why you shouldn't take it."

Ben continues to frown, but he slowly nods, "Right." before he looks back at Mal. "So, what's the plan again?"

Mal takes the plush blanket from the shelf, "First, we get this."

"Along with the couch you wanted," Evie smirks.

"And then," Mal grins, "it will be yours."

"That's not a plan," Ben worries.

Mal places a hand to his cheek, before she kisses him and whispers, "Don't worry. All you need to do is follow my lead."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 04/01/2019

\- Has Ben told Mal he's sick yet? You know, that whole fever thing... I feel like he didn't. He told Chad, though. Makes you think... Is this horrible or horribly funny? I can't tell.

-**Megan** Sorry. I'm really going to need to keep my account solely for my stories, especially with how many I've been uploading lately. If you do manage to get your guys's stories up, though, then I'd be willing to check them out. Thank you for the reviews.


	13. This isn't Normal

**This isn't Normal **

**(Tuesday-Wednesday Night, June 25****th ****– ****26****th****)**

When Mal enters the office and shuts the door, she notices Ben laying on the pull-out bed with the aqua blanket up to his waist, "For someone who got everything he wanted, you don't seem very happy."

Ben sits up and closes the leather-bound book, "Hey."

Mal frowns as she goes to sit next to him, "You want to talk about it?"

"About what?"

"Whatever's bothering you," she clarifies, before she places a hand to his face. "You look tired." She notices the dark circles beneath his eyes contrast against his skin, "And pale." He looks down, and her hand falls into her lap. "You weren't at dinner."

"I just can't stop reading it," he whispers. "I keep thinking it will make sense, but…"

"But?" Mal prompts, and he faces her.

Ben's mouth opens, but it's hard for him to say, "This is my mother's journal from when she first met my father." He looks back down, and her eyes follow his to the brown book. "The only thing that makes sense…"

Mal takes his hand, "Ben, it's okay. Whatever it is, you can trust me."

He looks back at her, tears filling his hazel green eyes, and his voice shakes, "I can't even… the words."

"Take as much time as you need," she reassures.

His eyes shift, "Mal." and he makes a noise. He can't say the words. He takes a deep breath, "You know how smart and… and curious my mother can be."

"Yes," she confirms, her frown deepening.

"I think it got her in trouble," his pitch raises, before he gulps. "If she wasn't— It— She—" He whimpers inaudible syllables, and then some French words are heard.

Mal places a hand on his shoulder, "Ben." and when he meets her eyes, she glows hers. "Breathe. Slow down."

After Ben settles he slowly shakes his head, "Mal. My mother, she changed so much." He takes a couple more breaths, "If she wasn't so… her, she would have left."

"Ben." Mal hesitates, "I don't understand."

"She wanted to leave," Ben nearly shouts, "but they took her need for knowledge and gave her a story to relate to." The tears leave his eyes, and he whispers, "They took ad— ad… advantage of her intellect, so she could find common ground with a— a monster." Mal finds herself speechless, and all she can do is hug him. He shakes in her arms, "He saved her life, gave her some books, and she stayed. And the wolves. They…"

He sobs and Mal holds him tighter, "Hey. It's okay."

"They kept her from leaving," he finishes. "She could have left if they just leave her alone." Mal feels his heart race and hears his breathing quicken. "She wanted to leave, but by the time she could, she forgot why."

Mal feels his skin become hotter, and when she places a hand on the back of his neck, he lets out a long breath. "It's okay, Ben. She seems happy, right? It turned out fine."

"Nothing's fine," he whispers back. "It's never fine." Mal continues to hug him, until his breathing slows and his become incoherent. She holds onto his shoulders, his eyes weary, as he mutters, "This was never…"

Mal slowly lays him down, moving the light brown bangs from his warm face, his eyes shut. "It's going to be fine." She swipes his bangs once more, before she places a kiss on his forehead, sets the book aside, and readjusts the blanket to cover him more. Ben places one arm beneath his head, and Mal watches as he takes his other arm out from the blanket, tucking it under his chest as he squeezes the plush fabric and moves a thumb over its surface.

* * *

When Ben sees his mother sitting in the library, he halts in the doorway. There's this feeling, solemn and unsettling, and his heart races. How is he supposed to face her, accuse her of this tabloid assumption? He glances down at the book in his hands, takes a deep breath, and steps inside the large room. His mother is laying on the blue, gold-rimmed chaise lounge, and when she notices him, she sits up to make room for him. Ben smiles for a second, but when he sits on the armless side of the couch, he folds his hands nervously. "Honey, what is it?" He meets her warm brown eyes, and the words escape him as he becomes breathless. She looks so happy. How could he possibly ruin this illusion of hers? "Ben? What's wrong?"

Ben wets his lips, before he hands her the journal, "I found this… Well, actually, Evie found it, but she doesn't know French, so…"

His mother frowns as she takes it, a concern crossing her face as her eyes meet his, "I can only assume you've read it." and when Ben stays silent, she nods. "Well," she breathes, her tone deeper and more structured. "What is your analysis of it?"

Ben hesitates, "You became grateful for not being treated as horribly as you first were, you were slowly given privileges that you didn't take advantage of to escape, and by the time you were told you could leave at will, you had developed enough feelings for your captor to return to him on your own." She waits for his conclusion, and he takes a breath, "You have Stockholm Syndrome."

She nods once, "Anything else?"

"What?" Ben disbelieves. "I just told you—" She places a hand to his cheek, and the rest of the air in his lungs slowly release. "You already knew."

"Honey," she partly smiles and slightly shakes her head, her eyes seeming filled with sparkling wisdom. "It doesn't make the love I share with your father any less valid."

"They tricked you," he stresses, and when the tears intrude his eyes, he lowers his head.

Her hand moves to his shoulder, and she peers down at him, "All they did was tell me the truth. There was no malicious intent."

He faces her and seethes, "They told you it wasn't safe to leave."

"And it wasn't," she calmly responds. "The winter was harsh, and the wolves were still roaming rampant."

"They made you feel comfortable there," he says louder.

"And that's a bad thing?" she laughs. The tears leave his eyes, and she lifts a brow as she smiles, "Would you rather had him keep me in that cell?"

Ben sniffles, "No."

"And you need to think," she addresses, "had none of that happened, if I never met or stayed with your father, then this lovely country would still be warring kingdoms." He looks up at her. "And had I not loved your father, we would have never had you." She shakes her head, "Your father may have been some mistakes along the way, but we have a good life and I wouldn't trade it nor you for anything in the world." Ben wraps his arms around her, and she returns the hug, placing a hand on his head as she does so. "You see? Everything is as it was meant to be."

Ben sniffles again, and with a deep breath the sweet scent engulfs him. He lets go of her and turns his head away, "Mom." He wets his lips, "Mother?"

"Yes?"

He wipes the tears from his face, before he looks at her, "There is still something."

"What is it?" He takes a hopeless breath. Her brown curls and elegant features, he's never going to get over it. He hates that every conversation has to be like this. "Well?"

He shakes his head, "It's just…" before he faces her again. "In your journal, you said that… that whole thing about Father being a carnivore."

"The beast was a combination of a lion and a wolf," she informs, "so yes. He was."

Ben hesitates, "Is he still?"

It takes her a moment, "I wouldn't say that." and her eyes shift before continuing. "People, they grow accustomed to things. Your father may still eat a lot of meat, but that doesn't necessarily mean anything."

"But if he were still a carnivore," Ben pauses, "do you ever worry that something like that could have been passed down to me?"

"I used to," she nods.

"But you don't now?" he shakes his head.

"No," she partly smiles.

"Why not?" he frowns.

"Well," she half laughs, "if it were to happen, it would have happened by now, wouldn't it have?"

Ben's eyes shift, "Yes." before he meets hers. "It would have." He notices her smile widen, and as the scent finds him again his eyes trail down to her neck. He could have her right now, take her into his arms and drink himself breathless. He shuts his eyes hard, furrowing his brows in annoyance, as he places a hand to his forehead. "Uh. Speaking of food." He stupidly takes another breath in stress, opening his eyes to meet hers in question, "What's going to be for dinner? Do you know?"

"Spaghetti, I believe."

He makes a hard attempt not to glare at her. If he had it his way, the sauce and meatballs would be his main course; however, his mother had always guilted him into rationing it out for the rest of the family. Also, the meatballs are just the most spiced, overcooked meat of all time. It might as well not even be meat anymore. "What else?"

"Steamed vegetables, cheese bread, and pie for desert," she lists. Ben shuts his eyes, as he feels the tension in his teeth. They're just aching to bite something. He opens his eyes. He'd give anything to be able to bite her, engulf himself, and erase her memory right now. That scent, it's been driving him crazy for so long. "Honey? Are you alright?"

"Uh, yeah," Ben gulps. "I was just thinking about grabbing a bite— a snack." His eyes widen, and he awkwardly smiles as he clears his throat, "What time did you say dinner was?"

"In a couple hours."

"Okay." He quickly stands and starts off, "See you then."

"Hey," she calls after him, and he rolls his eyes before twisting back around. She raises her eyebrows as she stretches her arm out to him, "Don't you want this?"

Ben slowly steps towards her, "You want me to have it?"

"Just make sure your father doesn't see it," she informs. "As you may have noticed, my first impressions of him weren't the most affectionate." Ben stares down past the book. The sleeve has moved down, and now the wrist is bare. Every blue vein is visible perfection, but there are the white scars his father had left her. How he wishes he could tear into her as he did, as he longingly looks at the pale skin. His heart beats faster. He imagines what it would be like, but he really must stop thinking that way. It's crazy. He's human. He shouldn't be getting these cravings. It's crazy. "Honey? Are you alright?"

He meets her eyes and admits, "Just a little lightheaded."

"Not a fever?" she concerns, her arm lowering some.

"No," he confirms.

"When was the last time you ate?" Ben tries to remember, but when he can't recall he shrugs. Her eyes widen, "You worry me, you know."

"I know," he quietly confirms.

She sighs and hands him the book again, "Here." before he takes it and she nods to the door. "Now, go. Eat."

"Will do," Ben breathes, before he turns around to leave.

* * *

Ben places his head in his hands, as his elbows rest on the table, but when the Brunette enters the area his eyes rest on her. The tight, black top exposes her arms and neck, and he gazes at them as the smell of sugar and crème grows greater. "Ben?"

He shakes himself from the thought, "Sorry?"

"Would you like the usual?" Bridget questions.

"Oh." Ben looks away and stares down at the red tablecloth. It looks like blood. "No."

"Then, what?"

He tries to remember, and he takes a deep breath before answering, "Two steaks and the soda. That's it."

"You sure?"

He looks back at her and nods, "I still have dinner tonight. This is to just hold me over."

She smiles, "See you soon."

Ben watches her turn to leave and urgently requests, "Wait." and when she turns around he reads the concern on her face.

"Yes?" she nervously asks.

"Um." His heart races, and he tries to smile through his pained expression, "Thank you."

Her blue eyes scan over him, "I will be back soon."

Soon, there was two plates in front of him, matched with a pitcher of Diet Coke. He tore into the steak with his teeth, and when he reached for the soda it complemented the blood greatly. There's another bite, and he moves a finger up his chin, sucking the loose juice off from it. Minutes later the steaks are gone, he texts the waitress for more, and he brings the empty plates to his lips to drink the red juice.

After the next two are gone, Ben pushes the plates away, resting his elbows on the table and rubbing his hands over his face. It seems like only a moment ago he had ordered, and now he'd finished his seconds. He lets out a displeased noise, before he takes in more air and folds his arms over each other. He'd done it again, and this time hadn't been planned. He was supposed to have just enough to satisfy him, but now he's going to have to attend dinner without any spare room to stomach anything. "Hey."

Ben looks at the waitress and mumbles, "Hey." before rubbing a knuckle over his forehead. "I'm done."

"You sure?" she questions, and he nods. "Okay." The brunette piles the plates onto each other, before she hesitates, "Is something wrong?"

"You're not an idiot," he snaps at her, and the tears intrude his eyes. "You know something's wrong."

Bridget frowns, "My job is to serve you, not judge."

"Judge," he shouts. "I know this isn't normal."

"Your highness," she murmurs.

"Ben," he interrupts. "I don't want your manners. I want your honesty." He watches as Bridget sits down across from him, and he shakily laughs, "I don't know why it has to be so hard all the time."

"Ben," she begins, before she shakes her head and eyes him. "All people have a hard time with food at some point in their lives. For some people it's just harder than others."

"I'm just always so hungry," he admits, and he notices her look down in thought. "What? What is it?"

She shuts her eyes and tries to smile, "This really isn't my place."

"No," he denies. "Tell me. What is it?"

She opens her eyes and meets his, "It's just…" Bridget hesitates, "If you're expecting a carnivore to join you again—" His eyes dart from the plates back to her. "We do offer blood now. It's animal, but fresh from the butcher." She offers an unsure look, "Maybe that could help your guest?"

Ben thinks for a moment, "Could it be warm?"

She shrugs, "I don't see why it couldn't be."

Ben nods, "Okay." before he takes a deep breath. "I think they would be willing to try it— But next time. We have a dinner to go to."

She nods, "Next time, then." before she stands, and Ben watches as she picks up the plates and pitcher.

"Bridget." She looks at him, and he attempts to smile, "Thank you. Really."

The waitress smirks, "You can thank me by not forgetting to pay."

Ben looks around for his checkbook, "Right." and she laughs as she leaves the backroom.


	14. Hard Times

**Hard Times **

**(Thursday Afternoon, June 27****th****)**

"So, you can't find Ben either," Mal drags out, as Evie makes room on the bed and Mal sits next to her.

"He's not answering my texts, anyway," her eyes shift, and she smiles. "I thought I would kill some time at the library, but I guess not."

"He's not even here," Mal complains. "I thought we could spend sometime together, but…" She sighs, and rolls her eyes, "I know he's hurting, but this just really sucks."

Evie frowns, "Do you really think Belle… that his parents are okay?"

"No," Mal scoffs, before she eyes off. "But his mom was captured, and she was forced to stay here until she fell in love with… his father." She takes a breath and meets Evie's dark brown eyes, "Ben might as well be a child of rape. What would you have had me say?"

Evie's quiet, glancing down, before she comments, "Something that wouldn't make him feel crazy?" Mal looks away in realization. "Or alone," she adds on.

"Well, it's too late now," Mal moves on, before she eyes over Evie. "What about you? How are you doing?"

She shakes her head, "Can't we just focus on Ben?"

"Evie," Mal gives a look.

"I'm fine," she promises. "It's just…" She gulps, and tears flow into her eyes, "It's just been hard." She takes Mal's hands, and Mal looks down but doesn't reject her. "It's like, where are we going here? We have no home. We have no family."

"We have each other," Mal asserts.

"No one's going to want me," Evie cries. "No one's going to trust a villain with a job. There's no way I'm going to get through college… or high school, even."

"Eves," Mal stresses.

She half laughs, "And what am I supposed to do? Fine some guy who can tolerate me, pretend that I'm fine with settling down and having a family with someone I don't love?"

"E," Mal whispers, looking off as she shakes her head. "We're going to make it here."

"No, we're not," Evie shakes. "We— We—"

Mal moves in fast to kiss her, and Evie becomes speechless. "Evie," Mal eyes down, before she faces her. "This… I've seen this from you before."

"I know," Evie shakes her forehead. "I'm a mess."

"E. "Mal waits for her to meet her eyes, "You're not eating, are you?" Evie opens her mouth, and Mal notices the expression that comes before an excuse. "I know you're not, because you aren't thinking right." She widens her eyes, "Eves. You're stronger than this. You can't let a little thing like being disliked break you. If you ate, you'd know that."

Evie lowers her head at the harsh tone, before she whispers, "Mal… I can't right now."

"Can't eat?" Mal disbelieves.

"Can't talk about it," Evie shouts, and Mal's expression falters. She quiets, "I can't talk about this with you."

Mal shakes her head, "Why not?"

"Because. You don't understand."

She takes a breath, "Look. Evie. I want to understand." and then she readjusts her seating to appear attentive. "I can listen."

Evie shakes her head and squints, "Listening isn't going to get you to understand."

"Then how?" she frustrates.

"You can't," Evie leans forward, before she stares down at the blue covers. "I'm sorry. I really am, but you're not who I need right now." She faces her, "I can't talk to you about this."

Mal nods, "Alight." before she attempts to smile. "You can hash it out with your therapist tomorrow."

"Right," Evie's eyes shift in recollection, before she grins at her. "Tomorrow."

"It is good you're trying," Mal peers at her. "You know that."

"Yeah," Evie's expression falters. "I know."

* * *

When Evie opens the door Ben awkwardly smiles, "Hey. Uh. Did you still want to go to the library?"

Evie narrows her eyes at him, "Where were you?"

He wets his lips and slowly answers, "I went for a walk."

"A walk?" her eyebrows raise.

"Yes," he grins.

Evie shakes her head, "You're a horrible liar." before she places a hand on her hip. "Where were you? Really."

"I was," he holds.

"About to lie again?" she accuses.

He lets out a breath, "I was walking."

"But?" Evie questions.

"It was more like walking around main street," he cautiously states.

"And?"

Ben wets his lips, his eyes widening, "And then I went to the park, sat on a swing, and watched people."

"For seven hours?" Evie doubts.

He looks off, muttering, "I didn't even wake up until two."

When he looks at her again, she scans over him, "And you just spent the afternoon watching people?"

Ben frowns, "Yes."

She shakes her head, "Why?"

"Because," he slowly defends. "Sometimes it's just something I do sometimes when I can't stop thinking about things."

Evie eyes over him, "What things?"

"What does it matter?" his eyebrows furrow. "I just like to think. I like thinking."

"Okay," Evie unsurely replies.

Ben scratches the back of his head, "So, uh, did you want to go? To the library?"

She glances down, "I actually need to talk to you."

"Okay," he says, and she opens the door wider for him to come in. She shuts the door, and he faces her, "What's going on?" She looks away, and he leans forward, "Evie?"

She looks up at him, "I…" Evie looks off again and mumbles, "Things have been hard."

"Oh," Ben realizes, and Evie places a hand over her mouth as she sobs. He steps forward and places his hands on her shoulders, "Hey."

"It's just so hard," she cries.

It's quiet for a moment, "How can I help?"

Evie folds her arms, "Well." and Ben lets go of her. She faces him, "I was thinking…" before she wipes the tears from her face. "It's stupid."

"No," he denies, and she faces him. "I want to know."

She hesitates, "I was just thinking, maybe, we could have dinner together?"

"Dinner?" his eyebrows raise.

"Alone. Tonight," Evie clarifies, but when he doesn't respond she turns away. "Forget it. I knew it was stupid."

"No," he quickly asserts, and she turns to him again. "It's just…" He gives her a look, pleading for her to understand, and when she doesn't, he admits, "I've been having a hard time too." He shakes his head, "I don't know, um, how I will be. I probably won't help."

She quietly comments, "I just need to eat with someone who won't judge."

"Then why don't you eat by yourself?" he inquires.

Evie takes a deep breath, "Because, then I won't." and she meets his eyes. "I need someone to keep me accountable."

"Accountable?" he repeats.

"To make sure I eat," she clarifies. "And you're the only one I can trust with this."

"Okay," Ben nods. "I'll have dinner with you."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 04/05/2019

\- **Megan** Part of the reason why it took m so long to update the story last time is because my last post involved Ben reading his mother's journal and I hadn't finished writing it yet. After I finished the My Name is Belle Marie story I was able to accurately write the corresponding chapter in this fic. Another reason is that it's gotten to the point in the story where it can be read alongside Side Problems: In the Pack, so I'm working on multiple fics at once... Speaking of which, the idea behind the short stories was that I'd be able to finish chapters during lunch at work, but my next short story isn't a journal. It's going to be called The Dryad Nadia, and although the amount of chapters will be less, there may be a similar duration to the amount of pages her chapter. So, it may take longer or be less convenient that then Belle's journal. At some point I will also have Ben continuing writing in his mother's journal in a story called My Name is Ben Florian, which will start being written at a point in this story where I feel like he would start doing that... Complicated, so I get it if you don't get it. Point is, working on multiple stories which intertwine will make my consistency for specific stories less consistent. For the first Isle Problems fic I just had every character's plot done in chronological order, but now I'm trying to do it in chronological order for multiple fics so that each set of characters can be focused on and not jumbled in randomly... although, I bet I will fail, especially this weekend in the fic with Aziz and his family's problems, because everyone has problems. By the way, I did look into the story you told me about, but the description didn't really explain what it was about. Maybe you could give me an idea of the plot or tell me any topics that are covered?


	15. Better

**Better **

**(Thursday Night, June 27****th****)**

Carlos looks around the table, "Evie's not skipping dinner, is she?"

"No," Mal frowns. "I saw her and Ben cooking in the East Wing." She stabs the ham with her fork, "He's probably helping her with her eating problem."

"You don't seem happy about that," Jay notices.

She clanks the fork down and faces him, "No. Of course, I'm not happy about it. It was just a couple hours ago that she was telling me that she can't talk about it, that she needed someone who understood, and now she's going to Ben for help? Why can't I help?"

Carlos comments, "She wishes she could help you." and they look at him. "She feels the same way about you and Ben and your heat situation."

Mal stares down at her plate, "That's different. She literally can't help me anymore."

"And you can't help her," Carlos counters, "because you don't understand what she's going through."

"And Ben does?" she disbelieves.

"His anxiety does cause some erratic eating habits," Belle intrudes, and Mal turns to her. "With any luck, helping her may help ground him."

"Or she could just be making him starve himself again," Adam voices.

Belle faces him, "That was anxiety induced. He couldn't handle knowing—"

"He is what he is," he says louder, and Belle glances down. "He's always been a hybrid, and humans eat meat all the time. What was so hard about him having just a little?"

"It meant something different after he found out," she quietly comments.

"And you babying him isn't going to help," Adam continues, lifting a finger in point. "This is the world he lives in."

"It's just until he adjusts." Belle tries to reason.

"He can't keep living this fantasy," he shouts. "He is what he is, and that's not going to change. Not for him. For you. For anyone."

"I was thinking," Mal interrupts, and she notices Adam glare at her. "If he will react better after adjusting, I would be willing to go to those gatherings with him."

"No. It's too public."

"They would think it was me," Mal's voice shakes.

"And if you want to continue being with my son," Adam stares her down, "you will keep your stories to yourself." He shakes his head, "How he could have disgraced us with a villain like you—"

"Mal," Belle attempts to smile, "why don't you and your friends take your dinner to the living room?"

"The living room?" Carlos unsurely asks.

"The old wine cellar," Belle elaborates. "Mal. Show them, would you?"

"Fairies and your magic," Adam spats. "I should have gotten rid of you when I—"

"That's enough," Belle hollers over him, and he slaps her across the face.

She holds her bearings and peers at Mal from the corner of her eye, "Go. Now."

He grits his teeth, "You choose an enchantress over me?"

Mal stands up, and Carlos asserts in disbelief, "We're not leaving."

"Hell, we're not," Jay disagrees, before he grabs Carlos's shirt, pulls him from the chair, and pushes him towards the cellar door.

"No. I would never," Belle reassures, as she takes Adam's hand and arm.

"You think you can trust them?" he accuses.

Mal watches Jay head down the stairs, before she looks at Belle as she answers, "No. I know how much they've hurt you." She places a hand to his cheek, "And I love you. I would never choose them over you."

"But, you just— I thought," Adam responds in confusion.

"Mal," Jay urges, and she looks down the stairs. "Aren't you coming?"

Mal takes a final glance, before she shuts the door and whispers, "Yeah."

She steps down into the cellar, and when she reaches Jay, he places a hand on her shoulder, "Hey. You okay?"

Mal holds her breath, "No." as she verges on the edge of tears.

When she suddenly hugs him, he cautiously returns it, "Don't worry. I'm here."

There was that time. Her mother and the Evil Queen were rivals for years, trying to become the supreme ruler of the Isle. Prior to the Evil Queen settling to partner with her, Mal had met Evie. She had lost everything: her confidence, her reputation, and her self-worth, but then she'd met her. She had been the first good thing in her life in a long while, but when her mother found out she'd been furious. There was a sudden, hard and warm sensation on her cheek, and when she met her mother's eyes, they were bright green. They'd glowed, and she'd been told to stop speaking with Evie. There'd been a loophole. Evie could tell something was wrong, and Mal never dared leave. They just sat together, Evie talked, and then it became more.

* * *

Evie eyes Ben's large bowl of cheesy potatoes and his plate of stacked, spicy chicken, "Maybe you shouldn't have so much."

He gives her a look, "I'm not telling you anything. Don't tell me."

She hesitates, "I just think we should be helping each other."

Ben nods, "Okay." before he eyes her plate of steamed vegetables. "I will eat less if you take it from me."

Evie's mouth gapes, as she slowly asserts, "You can't do that to me."

"And you can't do it to me," he counters.

"Alright," she lets out a breath.

After she stares at the food for a long minute, Ben says, "That's what I thought." before continuing with the chicken.

"No," Evie exclaims, and Ben stops. She darts her eyes between the food again, "Get me a plate."

Ben eyes over her for a moment, before he stands to get the plate and then sets it in front of her, "Here." He sits down and watches as she scoops some potatoes out of the bowl, before she hesitates to add more to the plate. "Are you really having all that?"

Evie gives him a look, "Shut up." before she shakes her head and starts to eat the vegetables. "You shouldn't be having all those carbs anyway. You're a frickin' carnivore."

Ben's mouth gapes, as he hesitates, "I'm not—"

"Don't lie," Evie's eyebrows furrow. "I'm from the Isle. I know a carnivore when I see one." She rolls her eyes, "And Mal, she knows too, so give it up."

"I like meat," Ben slowly defends. "That doesn't make me a carnivore."

Evie looks off and sighs, "You're right. It doesn't."

There's a short silence, before Evie notices Ben pick up another drumstick before he's even finished chewing the first. "Maybe we should talk."

Ben swallows, "About what?"

She shakes her head, "Anything."

He starts on the potatoes, before he remembers, "Aziz's birthday is on Sunday. Are you coming?" He quickly adds on, "We will probably spend the weekend there."

"In Agrabah?" Evie lets out a breath, "What about Mal? She can't come."

Ben looks around before meeting her eyes, "Why not?"

Her dark eyes widen, "You didn't forget." and when he doesn't answer, she leans forward. "Mal can't leave Auradon. It's part of her parole."

"Oh," Ben recalls, before he awkwardly smiles. "Yeah. I knew that."

After a moment, she quietly questions, "Ben. Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he frowns. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She watches him eat more of the chicken, "It's just… You used to not be like this."

He sets the bone down, "Like what?"

Evie thinks, "You used to be intuitive." but she notes his confusion. "You used to know what things are important and remember them, piece things together and… just be you."

"You're saying I'm not myself?" he asks in confusion.

"No," Evie glances down, "but you do keep forgetting things. Important things."

Ben wets his lips, "Yeah. I know."

Evie breathes, "It's because of your fall, isn't it?" and Ben looks off in annoyance. "Does your doctor know?"

Ben opens his mouth before saying, "I haven't seen him lately."

"Maybe you should," she suggests.

"No," Ben's pitch raises. "I'm good." He smiles and then nods down, "You still need to finish that."

Evie continues the vegetables, but there's still a couple fork fulls left by the time she sets the utensil down, "I feel sick. I can't do anymore."

Ben glances from the food to Evie, "Do you want me to finish it?"

She hesitates, "I don't want you to, but you can." and she watches as he takes his potatoes back. Somehow, his bowl and plate are already finished. "How are you not full?"

Ben lets out a breath before admitting, "I am full… but I'm still hungry."

Evie shakes her head, "What do you mean?"

He hesitates, "It's just…" before he wets his lips. "I'm full, but I feel empty." He shakes his head, "I'm sorry. I don't have the words."

Evie eyes over the table, "We're never going to get better, are we?"

Ben faces her, "I don't know what's going on with me, but…" He makes a noise, "There is no cure for anorexia."

She tears up, "So, what's the point, then? If I'm not going to get better—"

"No," Ben interrupts, and there's a moment of quiet. "You can get better." He eyes down for a second, "It's just… You will still be sick."

"Like you," Evie compares.

"Me?" he disbelieves.

"Your body temperature, the fevers," Evie reminds him, and his mouth opens. "Does Mal know yet?"

His eyes widen, "I—" before he lets out a breath. "I thought I did. I know I was going to tell her. It's just… and then I fell and—" His mouth gapes, "I don't think I told her."

"You need to," Evie strongly suggests with raised eyebrows. "Before you get sick. I don't want Mal finding out about this at the worst time. She deserves to know and prepare, not just… have her world fall apart."

Ben frowns, whispering, "I know." before he nods. "I will."


	16. Ill Prepared

**Ill Prepared **

**(Thursday-Friday Night, June 27****th****-28****th****)**

Mal cracks open the door and notices Belle sitting at the dining room table alone, before she widens it and Belle quickly wipes her tears away. "Mal," she comments in surprise. "I wasn't expecting you so soon."

She shakes her head, "I should have done something."

"No," Belle strongly counters, and Mal meets her wide, brown eyes. "Using magic would have only made him more paranoid. You did the right thing." Mal opens her mouth, but she's unable to admit just how much it had scared her. "Why don't you take a seat," she gestures to the chair, and Mal moves to sit across from her. "I imagine you have questions. Or accusations."

"Why don't you leave?" the question springs to Mal's mind. "I mean, it's not like you're dependent on him, not like us and our parents."

Belle takes a moment, "His, uh, paranoia has actually caused quite the financial restraint." before she faces her. "Even if I wanted to leave, I wouldn't have the means. I have not been allowed to make any money of my own, and the amount he does offer me just barely covers the luxurious life we live."

Mal thinks, "Ben's king now. He gets paid, doesn't he?"

"Technically, the money is supposed to be divided amongst the entire family," Belle frowns, "and he is still a child. I do not believe he's even created his own banking account yet."

"His father controls it," Mal assumes.

"He saves for emergencies," she informs, "and he's prepared for us to leave should Adam get worse, but he's ill prepared for any long-term solution."

"So, Ben does know?" Mal eyes her.

Belle folds her hands, "Ben knows his father is unwell, but I do not think he knows just how unwell he can get."

"Unwell?" Mal's eyebrows furrow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"I'm no expert," she slowly says, before she meets Mal's jade eyes. "Ben can explain it much better, I'm sure. How about you take your friends to the East Wing, and I will send him your way once I see him."

"You mean, if I don't find him first," Mal reminds her.

"Yes," Belle accepts. She turns around, "And Mal." before she faces her again. "I would appreciate it if you and your friends could keep the extent of this incident to yourselves."

"You want to keep the truth from Ben?" Mal disbelieves.

"Please, understand," Belle stresses. "Ben has yet to accept the situation of his own being. If this information were to cause his anxiety to get worse, then he would be too preoccupied with his father and me to focus on himself."

Mal breathes, "Okay. I get it." before she eyes over her. "I won't tell him." Mal's eyes widen, "Yet. He deserves to know."

"I know," Belle nods. "Thank you."

* * *

"I don't understand," Evie shakes her head. "He knows what we've been through. If he was going to tell anyone, it should have been us."

"That's the point, isn't it?" Jay counters. "He never told anyone before."

There's a knock, and Evie calls, "Come in."

Ben slowly enters the room, and Mal notices his hands are folded just as his mother's had been. He's uncomfortable. "Look," he shuts the door and moves forward. "Staying here, there is something you should know." He opens his mouth, but it takes a moment for the words to come out, "My father, he isn't well."

"Yeah," Carlos's eyes narrow. "No kidding."

Ben wets his lips, "I know this must be hard for all you."

"Hard?" Jay disbelieves. "You take us from our home, convince us that our parents are bad to us and to betray them, and now you're having us stay here with yours."

"I know this must be bringing up some painful memories," he acknowledges.

"Your mother said he's not well," Mal gulps, her eyes wide. Ben faces her, and she questions, "What's that supposed to mean, exactly?"

Ben finds the desk chair and sits, "My father has some anger problems."

"Aren't there classes for that?" Carlos interrupts.

"What makes him sick," Ben attempts to explain, "is that he can't control it. Sometimes… Sometimes it happens for no reason."

"No reason," Jay questions, "or just a reason you don't understand." Ben looks at him. "It would nice to know if he's doing it on purpose or not."

Ben glances down, "There can be reasons." before he shakes his head. "But… It really can just be small things that he wouldn't say anything about normally or…"

"Or?" Mal prompts.

Ben faces her, "The big things can seem bigger to him." and he notices them look at each other. "It's easy to know when he isn't well if you know what to look for."

"Like what?" Jay crosses his arms.

Ben let's out a breath, "I can't give… specifics right now."

"Of course, you can't," Evie sighs.

He leans forward, "My father does the same things, says the same things, when he isn't doing well. You're smart. You'll be able to pick it up."

"Before or after he beats the crap out of us?" Jay angers.

"Jay," Mal hisses.

"What?" he turns to her. "You saw him. You heard him. What if he hurts you?"

Ben looks from Jay to Mal, "What am I missing?"

Mal's quiet for a moment, and Jay speaks for her, "He threatened her. He said that he should have killed everyone like her off when he had the chance."

"He did not say that," Mal sternly remarks.

Jay leans back in his chair, "It's what he meant."

Ben eyes down, "If you don't feel safe here, I get it if you want to leave."

"We have nowhere to go," Evie's mouth gapes, and when Ben looks at her, she folds her arms. "At least on the Isle we knew how to survive."

"Everyone hates us here. On the Isle we were gods," Mal comments. "Now that I can control my powers, I would be the most powerful one there."

Ben grows quiet, "You want to go back."

"No," Mal laughs, and he notices her tear up. "God, Ben. No, I don't want to leave."

There's a long silence, before Ben inquires, "What do you want, then?"

"To be safe." Mal asserts, "You talk a big game, about how this is such a great place and that we will have it good here, so make it good for us." The tears leave her eyes, "I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave you. I just want us to have a chance." She eyes over the room and solemnly laughs, "All of us."

"Well, you will be safe this weekend," Ben frowns. "It's Aziz's birthday, and my family is invited. My father will be going, but you cannot." He looks over them, "Anyone who wants to stay at the castle can."

"I'm staying with Mal," Jay comments.

Ben nods and then turns, "Carlos?"

"It's Az's birthday," he disbelieves. "Of course, I'm going."

Jay eyes him, "He's your new friend?"

Carlos narrows his eyes, "Like you care."

Ben looks away, "Evie? What about you?" and she hesitates. "Do you need to come?"

She hesitates, "Birthday, like food and stuff?"

"They're vegetarian," he informs. "I'm sure you would be fine."

She widens her eyes, "No meat? How do you plan to survive a weekend there?"

Ben eyes off, "I'm bringing snacks." before he faces her. "The cake will probably be something healthy, like that white one with the strawberries."

"Angel food cake," Evie corrects. "Not actually that healthy."

"You wouldn't be," his eyes shift in annoyance, "told to eat as much, because the pieces for that one is smaller."

Evie gives a look, "You're not okay."

"So, you're going?" he continues.

"Yeah," she accepts, eyeing over him. "But I want you to see a doctor."

"Don't worry," Ben bypasses. "It will happen."

"Good," she asserts, "because I'm tired of talking to a wall."

Ben stifles a laugh, grinning, "Did you just call me a wall?"

Evie tilts her head and smiles, "Yes, I did. Because, you're just as smart as one."

Jay oohs, "You got burned."

Ben frowns at him, "Burned?" and Mal rolls her eyes.

* * *

Evie and Ben glance at each other, before Ben eyes over the meatless meal. He watches his father place the potatoes and sage stuffing onto his plate, and he continues to frown at his options. He could have some cheese bread, but it's overly crispy. It might become one of those issues, where he can feel the sharp edges as his stomach tries and fails to digest it. "Ben?" He faces Aziz as he's asked. "Is something wrong?"

Ben meets his mother's concern, before he attempts to smile, "No. No, nothing's wrong." He frowns again, before he takes a breath and decides on the potatoes and stuffing. If he mixes them together, then maybe it won't taste too bland or horrible. "Evie, is it?" Aladdin asks.

She looks up, "Yes?"

"What about you?" He frowns, "Can you have this?"

She eyes over it all in stress, "I, um, feeling a little nauseous, I guess."

Ben turns to her, "How do you feel about carrots?"

She slightly nods, "I think I could do that."

Aziz stands, "I'll get one." and he watches as he walks through the arch to the kitchen.

"Ben." He turns, and his mother comments, "Your dinner's going to get cold."

"Right," he looks back at it, before he pushes the mixture around with his fork.

"Ben?" the Sultan questions, and he looks at Aladdin. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah." He excuses, "Just not that hungry." before he takes a bite from his plate.

Aziz sits down and hands Evie a small container, "Here. Carrots and ranch."

Ben watches as Evie opens the package, pick a tiny carrot from it, and take a small bite. She's getting away with eating nothing, while he has to eat a plate full of grain. He looks back at it. It could be worse. He faces at Aziz, and when Aziz smiles, he attempts to smile back. At least they knew well enough not to give him raw vegetables. He looks back at his plate again. It's probably just luck, though. "Ben?" his mother says again, and after meeting her concern, he takes another bite of food.

Aziz watches him place a hand to his mouth, "Ben?" and Ben forces himself to swallow it. Somehow, it's not so much bland as it is too flavorful. There's so much flavor and texture to it, he can't help but find it disgusting. Aziz watches his eyes water, "What's wrong?"

He shuts his eyes for a moment, "Nothing." before he shakes his head. "It's just… This is my first meal today, and it's not… It's not settling well."

Jasmine watches Evie push the rest of the snack away, "We'll show you two to your rooms so that you can rest."

Aziz eyes Ben, "Mom."

She turns to him, "Az, show them."

Aziz stands and mumbles, "Okay." before he looks between Evie and Ben. "Come on, and I'll show you."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 04/09/2019


	17. Sick

**Sick **

**(Friday Night-Saturday Morning, June 28****th****-29****th****)**

"You will be staying with us in the royal courters," Aziz informs, before they head up the alabaster stairs. "First floor is the ballroom, dining, and kitchen areas. Second is the living and bedrooms. The third is storage." He turns at the top of the stairs and frowns, "Ben?"

Evie turns and notices Ben still at the bottom of the stairs, and he reaches for the back of his head before questioning, "Hmm?"

He frowns at him, "Ben? Are you okay?"

"He's fine," Evie answers, before she nods him up and Ben starts up the stairs.

Aziz looks over Ben, "Are you really okay?"

He awkwardly smiles, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I know you probably just woke up," Aziz comments. "You're not sleeping yet."

"No," Ben acknowledges.

He shakes his head, "Then why didn't you say anything?"

Ben faces him, "I wanted to get out of dinner."

He sighs, "Ben."

"Please," he asserts, "just show us where to go."

Aziz nods, before they walk through the living room and he stops in front of the hallway, "The bathrooms are on the end, girls at the left, guys at the right. Ben. Same room as last time." He turns to him, "You remember?"

He glances down, "Yeah." before he nods.

"Good." Aziz turns, "Evie." He watches her walk into the hall, "Evie?"

Ben frowns, "Uh, Evie?" before he calls after her. "Oh, no."

Aziz hears a shout in Arabic, and his eyes widen as he watches Evie stride down towards the end of the hall. She reaches for handle, "You dare run from me." and after the ruckus of the shaken door, she bangs her fists on the door. "You go around half naked, hair uncovered, and now you deny me?" she shouts.

Ben notices Aziz's eyes glaze over with tears, "What is she saying?"

"You owe me," she yells even louder.

Ben glances at Aziz again, before he rushes down the hall, "Evie!"

She turns, her eyes widening, "Sultan?"

"Ben," he breathes, before he walks over and places a hand on her shoulder. "It's Ben."

Evie eyes down, before they move up and meet his, "Ben?"

"Yes," he breathes.

She hugs him, "It was so horrible."

He returns it, "It's okay."

"What's going on here?" Ben hears the stern voice, and he and Evie break apart.

He notices Sultana Jasmine and reassures, "It's fine. She just had a vision."

"A vision?" she gapes, and Aziz's eyes widen as he looks between them.

"Evie's a witch," Belle steps forward. "She felt something that's been imprinted here."

"You brought a witch into our home?" Jasmine grits her teeth, "How dare you?"

"Mom," Aziz tries to reason.

She swiftly turns to Evie and points towards the stairs, "Out. Now." and Evie holds onto her arm as she and Ben come back out of the hallway.

"Mom," he tries to reason again.

She gives him a look, "We will not have witches in this palace." before Evie walks up to her. "Get her out of here."

"I'll walk her out," Aziz offers.

"No," Jasmine quickly responds. "I don't want you anywhere near her."

"She didn't even do anything wrong."

"Witches are dangerous," she emphasizes.

"She didn't do anything," Aziz says louder.

His mother narrows her eyes and points to the stairs, "Downstairs. Now." and Aziz sighs before walking towards the white stairs.

"I'll take Evie out," Ben says, before he places a hand on her back and guides her down the stairs.

Jasmine turns back to Belle, "What were you thinking?"

She stands her ground, "I was thinking Aziz's classmates were invited to his party and that you've never displayed a dislike for witches before."

"Because, I thought we were on the same page," she asserts. "You and your husband put all those heretics in their place. But now, your son is involved with a fairy and you two brought a witch here."

Belle steps forward, "Do not bring my son into this."

"Or are the rumors true?" she accuses. "Are you the enchantress they say you are?"

"Me, an enchantress?" Belle disbelieves. "Are you hearing yourself?"

"It is quite the tale," she counters, "that your love broke his curse. Do you really expect me to believe that what you two have is true love?"

"It's not," she slowly states. "It's just love, like what you and Aladdin have."

Jasmine's eyes widen as she declares, "Our love is ordained by God. Your marriage isn't even legal."

"It's not like there was a ton of paperwork at the time," Belle quietly reasons.

"I swear," she stares, "if you ever bring the devil to my door again—"

"Devil?" Ben questions, and they turn as he steps towards them. "What's going on?"

"It's nothing, honey," his mother frowns. "Just go to your room."

He steps forward, "Is this about Evie?" before he looks at the sultana. "You think she's evil, the devil."

"That's where a witch's power comes from," she affirms.

He nods before facing her, "What about Mal? Is she evil? Can she not be here either?"

Jasmine takes a moment, "So long as you are with her, she can come here."

Ben's heart beats faster, and he gulps, "And carnivores. Are they not allowed here?"

"You mean, like a vampire?" she questions.

"For one," Ben accepts, and he gazes through her. It would just be perfect if she said she didn't want him there and she didn't even know it.

"Drinking the lifeblood of an animal is a sin," she reminds him.

"So, God doesn't like people who are sick," Ben accepts. "What about you? Carnivores, with or without the sickness, would they ever be allowed here?"

Jasmine half laughs, "There are no carnivores in Agrabah."

Ben's eyes move towards his mother, but then they quickly turn down. His mother doesn't even know he's likely a carnivore. His father might. His father might even be one himself, but his mother has diminished it to nothing more than preference. She doesn't even know what the Sutana's proclamation really means or to stand up against it. He meets the desert queen's dark eyes, "Night." before he walks past them, picks up his backpack, and heads into his previously assigned room.

Ben lays on the bed in the darkness, a flushed heat surging to his face, and his breaths shake before he suddenly sits back up. He takes the tic-tac case from his pocket, digs into his backpack for the soda, and he takes the ibuprofen with the Diet Coke. He sets the can on the nightstand, takes out a box of jerky, and rips the plastic open. This will be his dinner, the beef strips and soda, and he has no control, as the stabbing of his stomach and the tension in his teeth beg him to bite the strips apart until there are none.

* * *

"Dad," Aziz meets his father's brown eyes. "Can we talk?"

"Yeah." He stands from the dining table, and when they reach a private area he questions, "What's wrong?"

He takes a moment, "So, Evie's a witch, and Mom's making her leave."

"Well," his father slowly replies, "you know how your mother feel about these things."

"That's not it," he shakes his head. "Dad. Evie saw something, a vision. That's how Mom found out what she was."

"A vision?" he questions.

"Ben's mom said she saw a memory that had been imprinted here, something from the past." His eyes widen, "And Dad, it was bad."

"Well, what was it?" his dad stresses, but then he grows quiet. "Aziz Ali. Tell me."

"It was like Evie was reliving the memory from the person who was after Mom, and the things she said…" He shakes his head, "The guy was complaining about how she used to dress, saying that she owed him."

His father frowns, "What else?"

Aziz takes a breath, "Before Evie got out of it, she mistook Ben for Sultan." and he hesitates. "I think whoever did that to Mom, they… Dad. They got away with it."

"Jaffar," his father realizes. "It had to have been him. No one else—"

"You have to talk to her," he pleads.

"We're sitting back down for dinner," his father decides.

"But Dad—"

He places a hand on his shoulder, "This is not proper dinner discussion, and we have guests. You understand?"

Aziz is quiet for a minute, "How bad do you think it got? With Jaffar."

His father's expression falls, and his arms rest to his side, "I'll talk with your mother after dinner. Can you read your sister to sleep for me?" Aziz holds his breath as he nods, and his father partly smiles. "Thank you for taking this to me."

He tries to smile back, "Of course." before they walk back to the table.

Aziz watches Belle sit down and Adam question, "What was all that?"

He sits down as she takes her husband's hand and arm, smiling, "It's nothing for you to concern yourself with."

Carlos asks, "What happened to Evie?" and when Aziz faces him his expression slips. "What? What happened?"

Aziz glances down before meeting his blue eyes, "I'll tell you later."

* * *

When Jasmine eyes away from him, he notices her fallen features, "Was it Jaffar?"

She turns her head up but still doesn't face him, as she whispers, "Yes." She slightly shakes her head, "I didn't think I'd have to wear a hijab in my own home, but with so many men around I should have."

"Hey," Aladdin asserts. "This isn't your fault."

"The Quran is clear," she faces him. "When I did not cover myself, I was telling men that I belong to no one, that I could be taken."

"Where does it say that?" his eyebrows furrow. "There's only like two passages on the hijab, and what about those lines where men are supposed to guard their sight from uncovered women. If Jaffar went after you in your own home—"

"Don't say his name," she eyes down.

"He disobeyed God," he continues. "You did nothing wrong." She stays quiet. "Jasmine."

"It's about staying pure," her voice shakes. "Women who wear hijabs are pure, they want to remain pure, only to been seen by her husband and family. By not covering my hair, I asked for him to notice me."

"The Quran holds men accountable too," he reminds her. "What Evie saw him try to do to you—"

"He did more than try," she whispers, before she faces him, and the tears leave her eyes. "That was just the time I got away."

His mouth gapes, "What?"

She looks away, "You know, and after my father talked with him, I thought it would be okay for me to dress for the heat… but then he got me."

"Jasmine," he reaches for her shoulder, but when she flinches, he takes his hand back.

"And then, I felt just so… I was no longer pure. I did not deserve to wear the hijab." She tries to wipe the tears away, "The only reason I started wearing it again is because of you. People would have thought I was a slut if I was married and did not cover myself around other men."

"Jasmine," he whispers again. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I thought you wouldn't want me." She faces him, "I was unfit for marriage after what he did, and if I'd told you— told anyone— then—"

"Wait," Aladdin disbelieves. "You never even told your father."

"Especially, not him," she cries. "No matter what I did, how I dressed, or how I behaved, I was still his innocent, little girl. He was looking for some man to protect me, and… I'd already lost everything."

There's a short silence, before he questions, "How can I help now?"

She shakes her head, "I just want to be alone."

"I can sleep on the couch tonight," he offers, and she merely nods. "Okay." He looks over her, "Do you want a kiss goodnight?" She shakes her head. "Alright."

After Aladdin gathers a pillow and blanket, he exits the room and moves down the hallway and into the living room. He places the pillow on the couch, and Aziz looks over his shoulder, "Dad. What happened?"

"Let's discuss this in the morning, please."

He watches him lay on the couch, "Did you and Mom fight?"

"No." He covers his eyes with his arm, "Everything's alright." before he turns inward towards the red couch.

Carlos looks at Aziz, "You were going to tell me what happened to Evie."

"Yeah," he recalls, as he turns towards him. "Carlos." He hesitates, "She went to the train station to go back to Ben's castle."

He shakes his head, "Why?"

"Because," he slowly addresses, "my Mom doesn't want a witch in our palace." He watches Carlos eye down, "Look. I like Evie. I do, but the way my Mom's interprets our faith, she thinks witches get their power from the devil."

Carlos faces him, "What do you think?"

Aziz glances down, "I think I'm in no position to tell my mom what is morally superior."

"And why's that?" he questions.

Aziz lets out a breath in stress, "Because, I sin regularly." before he stands up and Carlos follows him out to the balcony.

"You don't need a book to tell you what's moral," Carlos counters.

"It's not even about what's moral," he shakes his head. "It's about the set of rules Allah gave us to make us as prosperous and happy as possible, and I've broken them."

"Allah?"

"God," he stresses. "It's Arabic for God."

"Oh," Carlos comments before stepping forward. "And what rules did you break?"

"You mean, other than eating pepperoni?" he glances at him and then turns towards the lantern lit kingdom. "I'm sick. I'm sick, and I'm not going to get better."

"Yeah," Carlos recalls. "You still never told me the specifics on that." He stays silent. "Az. People get sick. That shouldn't be sin."

"It is if it's a choice, if you're consciously disobeying God's order."

"People don't choose to be sick," he quietly replies. "It just happens."

Aziz rests his arms on the stone fence, hunching over, "It wouldn't be so dangerous if I were anyone else. This sickness isn't going to kill me. What's going to kill me is that no one in my kingdom really believes it exists, and they're not going to help me."

Carlos places a hand on his shoulder, "It's okay." before their eyes meet. "And whatever is going on, you can tell me. I'll believe you."

"I know," Aziz frowns as he turns away from him. "I'm really glad to have you."

* * *

Aziz eyes the toast, before he looks up at his father, "Why didn't Mom come?"

He hesitates, "You know she's going through a lot right now."

"Is she going to get sick again?" Aziz stresses, and his father shakes his head.

"'Again' implies she was cured," he comments.

"No. I know," he quickly replies. "It's just… I'm worried."

"She had to recount some very disturbing memories," his father tries to reason.

"That's why I'm worried," he voices. "Eating disorders are an unhealthy coping mechanism."

"Aziz," his father lifts a hand to calm him down.

"I don't want to see her at eighty pounds again," he continues. "I mean, how are we supposed to explain that to Aisha?"

"You were about her age when you found out," he calmly answers.

Aziz quiets, "What did Mom tell you last night? What happened to her?"

"Well," his father slowly responds, "she said Jaffar did more than just try to go after her."

His eyes shift, "How many times?"

He shakes his head, "She didn't say, but if he never got caught and was still here by the time I met her…" He notices his son's expression, "Hey. She's strong. She can make it through this. She's going to be okay." There's more silence, before Aladdin eyes his son's plate, "Go on. Prayer's over. It's time to eat."

Aziz gives him a look, "I keep telling you, I'm not sick."

"Then eat."

He looks off, "What about Aisha? She never has breakfast."

"She went back to sleep," he excuses. "You didn't." Aziz scratches his forehead. "You know what the new studies say. There's a genetic component to this."

"I have problems," Aziz slowly admits as he frowns at him. "Eating isn't going to be one of them."

"It's already been one," his father frowns back.

"I was trying to be pure."

His father pauses, "Your mother talked a lot about purity last night. You're not that different from her." and Aziz lets out a breath. "So, your other problems. Do you want to talk?"

He shakes his head, "No."

"You sure?" he asks again.

"Yeah," Aziz picks up the toast. "I'm fine."


	18. Just Go with It

**Just Go with It **

**(Saturday Afternoon, June 29****th****)**

How could he have been so stupid. Ben had thought that if he'd just rationed it out then he'd be fine, but it was naïve of him to think he could spend the weekend at a vegetarian's home with nothing more than a single box of jerky. He's managed to go days without meat before, but he had also been avoiding people. Here and now, the more people who have started to arrive, the more it's got his teeth on edge, and thanks to his binge the other night, he has nothing left to bite into. He opens the freezer and notices a popsicle, "This might work."

"Cool," Chad comments. "Are we raiding Aziz's kitchen?"

Ben frowns a he leaves the popsicles alone, slowly shuts the freezer, and turns around, "Funny." He sees Chad's wide grin, "What?"

"Nothing," he points a finger. "It's just, you look so annoyed."

"I'll bite you," he slightly nods, and Chad laughs. "Are you high right now?"

"Not really," he chuckles again.

Ben moves forward, "And what happened to all those chemicals?"

"You said you didn't like them," Chad reasons.

He smiles, "You stopped wearing cologne just for me?"

Chad nods, "Yes."

Ben laughs, "You're such a…"

"A what?"

Ben's smile falters, "You smell so good." before he places his hand on his chest and pushes him towards the counters.

"Woah," Chad nervously says, as he tightly holds the counters' edge.

He breathes, and that bittersweet scent engulfs him. He could have him now. He could have him now, and his friend would see the monster he really is. He must resist. Chad is religious and terribly ignorant of any problems other than his own. He'd never forgive him, but if he could have just one taste. Ben eyes over him. Maybe he would understand. Worse case scenario, he can just get Mal to erase his mind later, but he needs him now. His mouth opens wider. He needs him now. "Ben!"

Ben turns with startled eyes, before his father's eyes move past him, "Chad. Go."

Chad looks between Ben and his father, before he holds his ground, "No."

Ben shuts his eyes. He should have never told him about his father's abuse. If even he can't hold his own against his father, then there's no way Chad will stand a chance. "No?" Ben's father disbelieves. "Do I need to get your parents? Leave. Now." Chad's expression suddenly falls, and he scurries to the arch. Ben's father turns back to him and eyes him over, "You're coming with me."

"Why?" he softly speaks.

"Come," his eyes widen, and when Ben hesitantly steps forward, his father moves out the kitchen and Ben follows him towards the stairs. He hears Ben's steps stop, and he turns, making a sad noise, as he notices him halted at the bottom of the stairs. He frowns, "Come on. We need to talk about this in closed courters." His father continues up the stairs, and Ben follows him; however, when they reach to top his father's criticisms continue, "I don't believe it. Out of all the places, how could you be so foolish?"

"We weren't doing anything," Ben denies, and his father scoffs. "Come on, Father. I have a girlfriend. I'm not gay." They stop in front of the bedroom door, and his father slowly turns, eyeing him in suspicion. "What? I'm not."

"What makes you think that I think you're a homosexual?"

"Well," Ben falters, before he awkwardly smiles. "Didn't you think we were doing something we weren't supposed to be doing?"

"I thought you were doing something you shouldn't be," he clarifies. "I didn't think you were doing that."

Ben's eyes shift, "Oh."

"So, why did you think I thought that?" his father inquires again.

Ben wets his lips, "It's just, Mal. She's concerned about how close I can be with Chad."

"Should she be concerned?"

His eyes shift, "I have a girlfriend."

"Who also has a girlfriend," he counters.

"Evie's not her—"

"Do we need to worry?" his father stares him down.

Ben eyes the floor and wets his lips, "Mal can make whatever choices she wants." before he meets his piercing blue eyes. "But I don't see myself with a guy, Chad or not."

His father nods, "Alright, then." before he opens the door and waits for Ben to walk in. Ben hears the door shut, and he swiftly turns around. His father gestures to the bed, "Take a seat." Ben glances over but doesn't move. "I said, take a seat."

When Ben moves towards the bed and sits, he watches his father unzip the suitcase, "What's this about?"

"I know what you were really going to do to Chad."

Ben makes a noise, "Father." before he notices the cooler get pulled out. "I really don't know what you're—"

"Save your lies for your mother," he interrupts, before he faces him. "You're my son. I know you." Ben opens his mouth to speak, but then his father moves to sit next to him, "Look. I know that I haven't been the best father, but you are still my son and I want to you survive."

Ben shakes his head, "I don't understand."

"You've lived a privileged life," he informs, "and you're a growing boy. I imagine your hunger must be worse than ever."

"My hunger," he unsurely repeats.

His father opens the cooler and takes out a zip lock bag of cut steak, "And growing boys need meat."

Ben glances from the meat to his father, "Aziz doesn't need meat."

His father takes a moment, "Well, most humans don't." before he faces him. "But you're my son, and you've never fared well without it." Ben quiets, and his father hands him the bag. "Even humans can convert to cannibalism in desperate times. For people like us, our need for meat makes it that much more…"

"Tempting," Ben finishes.

"Your mother has pointed out that with so many people on this planet that it makes sense that some of us would have more of a meaty appetite." He continues to frown, "It's meant to preserve resources and keep people from fighting over food so often."

Ben hesitates, "What about you?"

"It's just one package," he reassures. "There's plenty more." Ben looks down at the cold steak. "And this, it's an emergency. In this society, we survive by being the best humans we can be. Biting your friend's head off isn't going to help us with that." He keeps silent, taking a portion of steak from the bag and biting into the cold, juicy meat. There's that taste of iron that comes from the stale blood that had put him off during the restaurant dinner his mother had encouraged him to pace himself at, but the sweetness and smoky taste overcomes that this time. It's actually quite pleasant. He shoves the rest of the piece into his mouth, shredding it with his teeth, as he reaches for the next. "You should take your time. You will feel fuller if you think you've eaten longer."

Ben halts, shutting his mouth and resting the hand that holds the next piece, "Dad."

He shifts in his seating, "Yes?"

"It's hard," he faces him, and tears intrude his eyes. "It's really hard."

"What is?"

"All of it," Ben half laughs. "It's just so hard." He gulps and wets his lips, "I'm just always so hungry. Nothing helps, and I'm just so tired and eating and eating and…" He shakes his head, and when the tears leave his eyes, he hurries to wipe them away. "And it just gets worse, and…" The thought finishes, and his frown deepens in realization, "I want to tear everyone apart, just engulf myself, and…" He lets out a breath, his pitch raising, "It's like it doesn't even that they're a person. I could know them personally, and I will still find a way to rationalize it, tell myself that it's okay or there will be no consequences, that they will be okay with it and we can continue on as we always have." He notices his father stare down at the floor, "You're disappointed." Ben looks away from him, "I know. It's crazy."

"Ben," his father solemnly responds, and he waits for his son to face him. "There is no shame in this, but it is something we're going to have to deal with when we get home."

Ben's eyes shift, "Please, don't tell Mom. I don't want her to hate me— or be afraid."

"You think about her that way."

He casts his eyes down, "It's just, she smells so… irresistible." before he shakes his head. "And she would never hug me again if she knew."

"You don't want her to hug you, though," his father assumes. "It would be hard for you."

"I don't want to hurt her," Ben confirms, "but… I can't let go. I can't make her stay away, because…"

"Because?" his father concerns.

"I want her," Ben admits. "Any way to just be closer." His father doesn't speak, and he looks back at him, "Please, say something."

"What about other people?" he cautiously asks. "Is it the same?"

Ben pauses, "With Mal, maybe, and Chad, at least."

"So, is it just that you can't let the opportunity go?" his father evaluates. "Is it more that it's just safe to have… food nearby."

Ben takes a moment, "All I know is I want them."

"In what way?"

He hesitates, "Well, with Mother I assume it's just… you know, but I really don't know. With Mal I'll be offering heat one minute and trying not to tear into her throat the next." He thinks, "All I know is when there's a scent I like, I just want it. I never really know how." Ben places an elbow on his knee and leans his forehead onto his hand. "I'm so confused."

"You will be able to tell the difference once your hunger is solved."

Ben whispers, "And if it never goes away?"

"It will," his father reassures. "I'll make sure of it."

* * *

After Ben exits the hall Chad immediately questions, "What happened?"

"Well," he hesitates, before he notices his father enter to the living room. He gives Ben a look, and Ben puts his hands in his pockets and attempts to smile to show he won't cause any trouble; however, when his father starts down the stairs, he takes his hands out again and sighs. "Look. Chad. About earlier—"

"Don't worry about it," he partly smiles.

Ben's mouth gapes, "I need you to know… You do know what I'm talking about?"

"In the kitchen," he nods.

"Yeah," Ben scratches the back of his head.

"You don't need to worry," Chad frowns. "I get it."

Ben looks over him, "You do?"

"Yeah," he makes a face. "You needed someone to comfort you, romantically, and Mal's not here." He eyes off, "You only did that to me, because I was."

"Right," Ben slowly says. "Chad." He meets his greyish blue eyes, his mouth hanging open in explanation. As far as excuses go, this would be an embarrassing one, but at least it gets him out of having to tell him the truth. Chad doesn't need to know the truth, especially not here. He's really good at making a scene. "Oh, God," Ben's breath escapes him, as the tart scent overpowers him.

Chad smiles, "Something wrong?"

He shakes his head, "You still smell so good." and he presses his palms on his shoulders, his fingers clutching onto the blue shirt.

He notices Ben's eyes widen in desire and tilts his head towards the hall, "Why don't we take this to a bedroom?" and Ben cautiously eyes over him. "You clearly need more comfort."

Ben's eyes roll, "What the hell?" before he moves a hand to Chad's back, strides down the hall with him, and pushes him towards the bed, before he locks the door. He walks towards him, noticing Chad's amused expression, "Shut up." before pushing him back onto the bed.

"I didn't say anything," he laughs. Ben comes nearer, moves towards the right of his neck, and Chad stares up at the ceiling fan as he feels the sucking on his neck.

Ben shakes his head and backs off, "I'm sorry. I'm making things weird."

Chad gives him a look, "It's not like you're trying to go down on me. It's a hickey. Just go with it."

"Really?" he disbelieves.

Chad shrugs, "I have gone without any activity for… well, since… the school year, so I could really use some connection too."

"Alright," Ben slightly nods, before he moves in towards the neck again. The tart tease of taste should be off-putting. The bitterness is strong, but he can't help but keep giving it another chance. He's missed it. It's that kind of taste you think you'll never have again, but then a week later you're itching for more. It's so close, yet so far. If only he could have it for real. He imagines how the red liquid would flow, as he takes the skin with two front teeth and bites.

Chad feels the pinch and winces. All the things he's done, this really isn't his kind of kink. "Ben?" he hesitates. "What are you doing?"

Ben sucks once more, but the blood is so miniscule that it dissipates on his tongue. He moves back and notices Chad's expression, before he looks down at his hands. He got caught. He thought that maybe he'd be able to get away with something small, but he was wrong. He faces Chad and takes a breath, "What would you say if I told you I have a fetish for blood?"

"That's kind of gross," he points out.

Ben brings a hand to the back of his head, "Well, yeah, I know, but…"

"Does Mal let you do this?" Chad's eyebrows furrow.

He sighs, "Mal doesn't even know." and he watches as Chad grins. "What?"

It's nothing, except that he wins again. "Hold on."

Ben watches as Chad takes a multitool from his pocket, and he gazes as it's opened to a small, sharp knife, "I didn't think…"

He raises his eyebrows, "As much as I love you, I don't like love bites." Ben halfheartedly laughs with an unsure, nervous smile. "You get one cut." He hands the tool to him, "So, make it good."

Ben glances from the knife, to Chad's neck, to him, "What if I mess up?"

"You took Anatomy, didn't you?"

"Well, yeah," he unconfidently answers.

"So, don't mess up," Chad concludes, but Ben still fails to move. "Okay. I'll make it easier for you." He sits up, Ben follows suite, and he turns his head, "Go on."

Ben takes a deep breath, hesitantly moving the knife towards Chad's neck, "If my father knew I was doing this, he would be so upset with me."

"Yeah," Chad sympathizes. "So would mine."

Ben makes an incision, and he watches the red liquid stream down before licking the blood up to the wound. He maneuvers Chad back down as he continues to suck. "Where are they?" he hears out from the living room. It's Chad's father.

"They're going to miss dinner," Ben hears his mother's concern and internally rolls his eyes. How is he supposed to focus, knowing they could come in any second. He lets out a breath, recalling that he'd locked the door, before he sucks at the blood again. "Honey?" his mother knocks. "Are you in there?"

"Ignore them," Ben whispers into Chad's ear. "Maybe they'll go away."

"Pumpkin?" someone questions through the door. "Are you in there?"

He lets out a breath, "That's my mom. I need to go."

"Your father's out there too," Ben warns. "You can't just leave my room." He moves in again, "Besides." before he sucks. "We were in the middle of something."

Chad notices the door handle wiggle and pushes Ben off, "They're coming in."

Ben makes a displeased noise, "Okay. I'll go, take them off your scent."

"What? No," his mouth gapes. "You'll get us caught."

"How?" he furiously whispers.

"Because," Chad eyes over him to look for a reason, before he points, "Your teeth are red." He smiles, "So, unless you want to tell Mommy about your sex life—"

"Shut up," Ben interrupts, before he sighs. "Okay. You go."

Chad goes to the door, unlocks it, and opens it just enough for them to see him, "Hey."

Belle laughs, "What are you doing in Ben's room?" before she tries to peer over him. "Is he in there with you?"

"Uh, yeah," Chad quickly answers. "We were talking, but he said he's tired and he's going to take a nap. So, he won't make it to dinner."

His mother places a thumb to his chin to turn his head, "Is that blood?"

"Probably." He excuses, "I thought I should shave."

"But you still have a shadow," his father contradicts.

"Because, I stopped shaving after I got the cut," Chad irritably responds.

His mother takes a closer look, "If I didn't know better, I'd say it looks like you were making out with someone."

"Well, yeah," Chad stumbles. "You know, because there's the cut and it was flowing, but then it stopped bleeding, and now it's colored." Ben hits his palm to his forehead. "You know, because that's how bruises happen with the blood and stuff."

"Okay," his mother laughs off. "You coming to dinner, then?"

"Yeah." He hesitates, "Just let me take care of this cut again."

Belle smiles at his parents, "I'll meet you down in a second. I just want to check on Ben." and Chad freezes as he watches her enter the room. "Honey?"


	19. Maybe I was Wrong

**Maybe I was Wrong **

**(Saturday Night, June 29****th****)**

Ben turns on his side, away from the door, as he hides the small knife under the covers. His mother walks towards that side of the bed, and he makes an effort to conceal his mouth, clutching part of the blanket over it as he turns his head further down. "Honey?" she questions again, before she sits on the bed's edge. "How are you feeling?"

When she tries to feel his forehead, he moves his head even further into the pillow, irritably answering, "I'm fine."

"I know how hard it is for you to stay here," she mentions. "If you're not feeling well, we can always go home."

"I'm fine," Ben repeats.

She sighs, "Maybe just—"

Ben feels her try to pull the covers lower and he tugs them back, "No. I want them." before he shuts his eyes for a moment. "They're comfy." They're hot as hell, but they are comfy.

"Okay," she accepts. "Is there anything I can get you?"

Chad. She could get him Chad. "No," he mumbles.

"Okay." She kisses him on the corner of his forehead, "Rest well." before she stands.

He hears her touch the door, "Mom?"

"Yes?"

Ben pauses, "Can you put on the fan for me?" She flips one switch to turn on the fan and the other to turn the lights off. "Thanks," he whispers.

Belle shuts the door and turns, noticing Chad, "Do you need help with that?"

"With what?" he surprises.

She points, "That." and he reaches to the cut.

When he feels the wetness and sees the blood on his fingers, he sighs, "Probably."

* * *

When Adam notices her open the book and start to read, he makes a noise, "Belle." and she meets his eyes. "We can't keep doing this to him."

She shuts the book, folding her hands over it, "I assume, you mean Ben."

"He needs to know what he is," he proclaims. "The things he does and thinks, he must feel so isolated."

Belle partly smiles, "You're projecting a little, don't you think?"

"You've seen how he's been behaving," Adam counters. "He's been all irritable and defensive and—"

"Because we don't know anyone else who's like that," she lifts an eyebrow.

"He's getting tired of eating," Adam informs. "He said nothing helps."

"He has a fast metabolism," she excuses. "An athlete like him—"

"It's more than that," Adam asserts, before he hesitates, "I don't think a dinner roast is going to cut it for him anymore."

Belle takes his hand, "Adam. If something were going it happen, it would have already happened. You're the one that convinced me of that, remember?"

He makes a noise, "Well, maybe I was wrong." and her expression falters. "He's reckless. If there is something wrong, we need to get a grip on it."

She takes a moment, "Adam. You know your paranoia can get the better of you."

"Not about this," he insists. "I'm telling you, there's something seriously wrong with him. We've got to do something."

Belle slowly suggests, "Maybe this isn't the best time for this conversation."

"No," he yells, before he points a finger and grits his teeth. "I've held my tongue long enough. This fantasy you've given Ben is going to stop."

She moves his finger down as she holds his hand with hers, "Adam. Please."

"He's my son," Adam asserts. "I should have a say in his life."

"It's his life," she reminds him. "And if he really needs help, he will come to me."

Adam grumbles, "Because, he would never come to me."

Belle takes a breath, "Adam. You and Ben haven't exactly been on great terms. The chances of him coming to you right now… It's not going to happen."

"Unless he's afraid," he realizes.

"Well," Belle thinks, "I suppose."

He quiets, "And if I were to tell you that Ben's already spoken with me?"

She offers an unsure expression, "How do you mean?"

Adam hesitates, "I don't want to get into the details… but he is having a really hard time with this. We need to do something about it."

"You really are concerned about him," Belle realizes.

"He's going to lose himself," Adam continues. "He's going through this, and he has nowhere to turn."

"He can turn to us," she reminds him.

"But we've been lying to him," Adam widens his eyes. "Maybe he has been wanting to talk to us. Maybe he is struggling." He takes a deep breath, "And maybe us lying to him, it's made him feel worse about it." Belle's eyes lower in thought. "And if he's looking for answers, we need to give them to him."

She looks back up, "If what you're saying is true, then it's more important than ever that when he finds out again, he is able to accept it this time." and she sternly eyes him. "If his appetite has been getting worse, we can't have him stop eating meat altogether again."

"He needs more than that," Adam insists.

"If you want him to accept the truth once he finds out," Belle mentions, "then you might reconsider letting him attend a hybrid gathering."

"You really think people finding out about what he is, is going to make him feel any better?" Adam doubts.

She pauses, "I think that if Mal offers to put herself out there for Ben's sake, then we should take her up on it."

He grumbles, "That fairy—"

"Cares about him," Belle finishes. "We all want the same thing. Why can't you see that?"

"He needs to know now," Adam attempts to explain. "Why can't you understand he just is what he is? His body isn't going to wait for him to accept it, and you going along with this idea of him being human, it's just going to make things worse."

"Adam," she sighs.

"What do you think is going to happen when it finally happens?" he disbelieves. "I'll tell you what will happen. He will be an utter wreck, and all because he wasn't prepared for it."

Belle nods, "So, we're at an impasse, then."

"There is no impasse," his voice raises. "Ben needs to know now. It can't wait."

"Please," she pleads. "You know what happened last time."

He shakes his head, "Why can't he just accept it?"

"We should have told him when he was younger," Belle comments. "We should have told him it was okay to be different. Instead, we've made him ashamed of himself."

"We can't tell him yet?" he unsurely thinks.

"No," Belle frowns. "We can't."

Adam grumbles, "You really think this meeting can help?"

She nods, "I believe so."

Adam takes a deep breath, "Alright." before he gives a look. "But we're going to tell him. And soon."

"Soon," Belle promises.

* * *

When the door opens Ben looks up from the book, "Chad?"

"I figured you'd still be awake," he says, before he steps in and slowly shuts the door.

Ben shakes his head, "What are you doing here?"

Chad frowns as he shrugs, "Well, we didn't get a lot of time earlier."

He shuts the book, "Chad." before facing him. "The cut's going to be healed by now."

Chad scrunches his eyebrows, "Okay. I don't know about you, but it takes me more than one day to heal a cut, much less a few hours."

"But it's not bleeding," Ben counters.

"I don't know," Chad frustrates, before he makes a noise. "And why does it matter? You already told me you don't do that with Mal."

Ben sighs, "And if I'm doing anything with Mal, it usually has more to do with her needing heat or me needing to get rid of a fever."

His eyes shift, "I didn't think Mal knew about your temperature."

"She just thinks I'm hot, literally," he irritably responds. "She doesn't actually know about…" His frown deepens, "That I'm sick." and a sudden unsettling feeling flows over him. He eyes Chad up-and-down, "Did you want me to… um, check on the cut?"

Chad walks over to sit on the bed, "Your mom put something on it to stop the bleeding."

Ben peels the square bandage off, muttering, "Whatever she did, it didn't work." before he caresses his bottom lip up Chad's neck to catch the blood. He closes his lips over the cut and pushes him back onto the bed, and when Chad moves his shoulder to reveal the novel, Ben tosses it to the floor.

Chad laughs, "Your mom would be so disappointed."

"Shut up," Ben breathes, before he repositions himself over Chad and moves into the left of his neck again. It flows just as well as before, and although he urges for more, the speed stays the same. It does not slow, as he would expect it to, and the bitter taste no longer puts him off as it had before. It's sweet in its own way. Not like sugar, just sweet, but the taste is still so consuming. He takes a deep breath, ready to bite, except that he doesn't even know if his teeth would work like that and Chad's already complained about the cutting from his front teeth earlier. The blood's starting to slow, but he needs the taste to stay. Even just one minute longer, he urns to lose himself in it. He feels a hand slide under his shirt to his hip. If he were to do anything more, Chad may not object to it, and he bets anything that more activity would get the heartrate up. If he gets Chad's heartrate up, that will get things flowing. Grinding against him, getting him off, that should do it. Is it too weird? Is it wrong? No. He would do anything for just one more second, and another, and then another.

* * *

\- **Posted**: 04/15/2019

\- **Megan** Yeah. It was intended for Jasmine to be rude. Her character wasn't the most calm in her movie, and sadly I thought this would be a good portrayal of her and her life. Onto the pairing question, I thought I explained this in the first chapter, but it was probably under spoilers. Right now, Mal has pretty much been dating Ben and Evie behind Ben's back and telling Evie that their relationship doesn't mean as much as it does. By the time this fic is over I want to have Ben and Evie consenting to having Mal date both of them. The relationship that's been developing between Ben and Evie won't be a sexual one. They will just become heavily reliant on each other and used to each other's company, which will come to a point where if they were to separate, it would hurt as though they were in a relationship. To be clear, though, my interpretation of the characters are as follows. Evie is a lesbian, but as a hopeless romantic she also dreams of the "perfect" romance, which may or may not result in her trying to date a guy for a while. Mal is bi, and she's shameless about it. Ben... Well, Ben's Ben. Let's just leave it there. I have a lot of interesting things planned for him, but most of it isn't going to happen until after he graduates high school. If anyone has any further questions (like not being able to stay out of Ben's business, for instance), I'm willing to answer.

\- So, I've been watching a spin-off from Pretty Little Liars called The Perfectionists, and the actress that portrays Evie is in it. It's so awesome, you don't even know. She plays the character Ava, and the character is exactly like Evie's, right down to the villain parent and neglectful upbringing. Her personality is a little darker, but I rather like it. I swear, a little Isle vibes is exactly what that show needed. It just makes some of her lines that much deeper.


	20. A Piece of Cake

**A Piece of Cake **

**(Sunday Morning, June 30****th****)**

Chad glances down at Ben. His eyes are shut, he's leaning on his shoulder, and Chad eyes up at the spinning fan. Last night was like a dream, but now it's over. There's no way Ben would do this again. He probably even regrets it now, but then again, he did do this with him twice and it's not like his girlfriend's entertaining any of his desires. Chad rolls his eyes. Blood is so weird and disgusting. Everyone has weird things, though, and if getting cut a little is all he needs to get Ben into bed, then it's not the worst thing. It's not like it even really hurts. The bleeding, though. He bleeds really easily, no doubt from the pills. It's good for Ben, not so much for him. This was all he wanted for so long, and he nearly passed out during it. If Ben knew, he'd never have him again.

Laying here is pointless. Ben won't even wake up until the afternoon, but this? Ben's head on his shoulder under the same covers as him, he doesn't want it to end. It has to, though. It's Aziz's birthday, and even more people will be coming soon. He can't be caught with Ben, not again. His parents would be so worried, and it's a Sunday. What's he doing in a guy's bed on a Sunday morning? He should be in church right now. Chad lets out a breath. He really tried to get better, but then Audrey left and now it's as though God's abandoned him. He's not even bothering to punish him this time for his sin. Not that he wants to be punished again; that was the worst experience of his life, and he can't even tell anyone. God did not let anything happen that he had not already let happen. He'd gotten what he deserved, his punishment, a warning to never do it again, and now he has. Again.

Chad sits up on the side of the bed, his breathing deeper now as the sense of wrongness fills him. His body shakes, and he rubs his hands together before running them over his hair. He needs the pills. He needs more pills. Chad stands, and he feels the crustiness stuck to his leg. He needs a shower too, but he's getting the pills first. He strides to the door and opens it. He needs those pills, but where did he leave them? He really is an idiot. Chad walks down the hallway and notices his bag in the living room. There. The pills will be there. "Hey." Chad notices Aziz reading on the couch. "You're up early."

"Yeah," he runs his fingers through his hair. "Um. I need a shower, and I'm an idiot because I only bothered to bring an extra pair of socks and a shirt."

Aziz laughs, "Do you need to borrow something?"

His eyes shift, "Probably." and Aziz stands up.

"Come on." Chad follows him into his room, and as Aziz digs into the dresser, Chad catches a drip from his nose with the back of his hand. Okay. Now, he definitely needs those pills. Chad wipes it away onto his dark jeans, as he looks towards the door. If he hurries, he might have a minute to get those pills now. "Do you need underwear?"

Chad turns back to him, "Um."

Aziz tosses him a pair of boxer briefs, "You can keep those." before he pulls open another drawer. "Don't worry. They'll stretch." Chad takes a deep breath. This is taking forever. Aziz takes out a pair of blue pajama pants, walks over to him, and presses it into Chad's chest, "I want this back."

"Okay," Chad merely says, before he turns around and heads back to the living room. He opens his bag, hides the prescription bottle in the shirt, and takes out the shirt and socks before heading to the bathroom. He shuts the door, drops the clothes, and finds the pill bottle. He hurries to take the cap off and dump the contents into his hand, but then he realizes only one is left. He sighs and grits his teeth, "Damn it." He shakes his head. How didn't he see this when he put it in his bag in the first place? He stands still for a long moment, glancing at his reflection, before he sets the pill down. "Okay. You've got this." Chad reaches into his pocket for his multitool, and for the first time, he uses the blade to crush the pill to dust, move it onto the back of his hand, and snort it up his nose. It's painful, but it will be more concentrated this way. It will be like he had enough pills in the first place, and the effect is almost immediate.

* * *

"Ben. What about you?" Sultan Aladdin asks.

Ben frowns at the chocolaty cake. It's littered with almonds, and he's been told the actual cake will taste like a cinnamon roll. He wants it. He wants it all, so he will have none. He merely shakes his head, and his mother questions, "Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he whispers; however, he can taste the rich chocolate just from sitting there, so he stands and walks towards the stairs. At the top, he goes over to the couch and hunches over as he runs a hand over his face. He's not hungry. Surprisingly, he's actually not hungry, but something like that is hard to pass up. If he were to have had a sliver of that cake, he knows he would lose himself. He would lose himself in the taste, and everyone would stare. He might have not even cared, which is even worse.

"Ben?"

His eyes turn to the stairs, and he notices Audrey, "Hey."

She takes a few steps forward, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he mumbles.

"Is it your eating disorder?" she inquires, and he gives her a look. "Back at school, you told me—"

"I know what I told you," he interrupts, "but I don't have an eating disorder. I was just— I was taking it out of— I turned it into more than what it was."

"So, you're just not hungry?"

"Actually," Ben's eyebrows raise, "I'm quite… satisfied right now."

"Huh."

Ben looks at her in mild defense, "What?"

"I just thought you'd have a hard time here." She laughs, "I mean, you're the least vegetarian person I know."

His eyes lower, "I had things to eat."

She slightly nods before tilting her head, "But you don't want any cake?"

"No. I don't want any merdique cake, Audrey," he irritably answers.

She frowns, "Why?"

"Because, I'm bad with food," he shouts. "Okay? So, I don't need to be eating when I'm not even hungry."

She questions, "Are you full?" and his eyes pierce at her. "You're not afraid of being full, are you?"

"No," he exasperates. "I'm afraid of falling apart. In public, where everyone will see." Audrey's speechless, and he eyes away from her. "And anyway, a cake wouldn't even do anything. It would just make me feel sick."

"So," she slowly concludes, "you don't want the cake?"

"No. Of course, I want it," Ben half laughs. "But the fact is there's no point, and it will probably taste bad too." His eyes narrow as he looks away, "Food's frickin' dégoûtant. It's like the taste is always too much or too little, like dirt even, and it never fucking works anyway."

"Ben," Audrey hesitates. "Maybe you should talk to someone about this." He looks off, and she suggests, "Your parents."

He huffs, "My parents are the last ones who need to know about this merde."

"They could help," she insists.

"My parents have done nothing but make my life Hell," Ben sternly eyes her. "If they knew, they would probably just find a way to make this worse too."

"What do you mean, make your life Hell?"

Ben stands, "You know, it must be nice." before he walks towards her. "Having the perfect parents, the perfect dog, the perfect family."

"My family's not perfect," Audrey steps back.

"But at least you can feel safe there," Ben counters, before he gulps and his heart races. "Everywhere I go, it's who's in this room, what will they say, and what can I do. Is Father well? Will Mother… ignore me?" He crunches the finger he holds up, "And I can't go. I have to stay, and it just…" The tears intrude his eyes, and his voice crackles, "It stays the same."

After some silence, Aziz says, "I'm supposed to check on you two."

Ben notices his frown, and he wipes the tears from his eyelashes. "There's more you're not saying," Audrey speculates, and Ben shakes his head before heading to his assigned room. What would Audrey know? Telling her anything was a mistake. Her first instinct is going to be to go straight to her parents and get them to talk to his. He lays on the bed and stares at the ceiling fan, as it blows warm air around the room. He needs to stop doing this to himself.

Ben takes the tic-tac case from his pocket, dumps out a few Ibuprofen, and downs them with some refreshing water. He lays back down, but then there's a knock and he sees Aziz open the door. "Hey. Can I come in?"

"It's your birthday," Ben mumbles, before he looks off. "Not that it matters."

He shuts the door behind him, "What did you say?"

"I was just saying," Ben explains, "that if it were my birthday, what I wanted wouldn't even really matter."

Aziz sits on the edge of the bed, "You know, I was there when your father broke open the door to your dorm." but Ben doesn't respond. "Is there anything else I should know?"

"Audrey's going to tell," his mind races, "and then I'm going to get in trouble."

"I already talked to her," he reassures.

Ben looks at him, "You did?"

"I told her we don't know enough to say anything."

He shakes his head, "I don't want anyone to say anything."

Aziz nods, "Okay. I won't." and Ben rests his head more on the pillow. "What's going on? How bad is it?"

Several clips run through Ben's mind, but there's no audio and he can't recall any of the important things, "I don't have the words."

He nods again, contemplating, "Has anything happened here?"

Ben takes a moment, "Not really. We just talked about stuff."

"Well, it will be my turn to visit you for your birthday next week. If anything happens between now and then, can you tell me?"

Ben thinks, "It's normal. There's no point in pointing it out."

"I'm going to need you to try for me," Aziz asserts.

"Yeah," Ben whispers. "Okay."

"Okay," Aziz stands. "How about I get you some ice cream to cool down with?"

"Yeah," Ben whispers. "That would be nice."

* * *

"Wahoo," Chad hollers, after he defeats Aziz.

"Okay," Aziz stands back up. "Who's next?"

Ben stands, "I will." before he walks up to them, and Aziz hands his fencing sword over to him before taking a seat back at the bench.

Chad smiles, "My father taught me. You don't stand a chance."

Except, that the room is air conditioned, so he does. Ben whispers, "Really? Because, I had you pinned pretty good last night."

He laughs, "Come on. You know I let you win, then."

Ben smirks, "Then give it to me, now." before they move their swords up and then turn around to walk away.

"Remember," Aziz shouts. "This is free fencing, so the entire room can be used."

When Chad and Ben face each other, they start to circle each other, inching closer to each other until Ben takes the first swing and Chad blocks him. He takes his own swing at Ben, but when Ben blocks him, he's pushed back. Ben hits his sword, "You forget I'm stronger." before he starts to back Chad up against a wall. Chad's expression falls, and after a final hit, Ben points the rubber tip to Chad's neck, "If you want to beat me next time, you'll need to be smarter at it."

He smiles, "I'll get you eventually." and Ben laughs.

"Ben!" He drops the sword, as his jaw drops and he turns to the doorway, and the other guys' eyes follow his to his father. He grumbles, "We're leaving. Get your things."

Ben frowns, "But the party's not over yet."

"You stole from me," his father sternly eyes him. "We're leaving."

The meat from his father's cooler, he realizes. It was after that first tease of blood Chad had given. The single minute hadn't been enough. It only urged him for more, and he needed something. He simply couldn't help himself. "I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Save it for the car," he interrupts his panic. "We're going."

"But," Ben quietly counters.

"I said we're going," his father yells, but when Ben starts the walk forward, he feels a tug on his sleeve.

He eyes back and notices Chad's concern, before he whispers, "It's okay. I'll text you tomorrow." His eyes shift, "Or sometime." Chad scans over him before letting him go, and Ben slowly walks past Aziz before meeting his father's piercing blue eyes. "Okay."

Aziz watches as Ben's father repositions himself to place an arm over Ben's shoulders, walking him out of the room. "What do you think he stole?" Brendan questions.

"I don't know," Aziz frowns, before Ben and his father step out of view and he turns to his brown-haired friend. "But it's none of our business."

* * *

"How many times have we told you?" his father begins.

"I know," Ben quietly states.

"Maybe," Belle hesitates. "Maybe we shouldn't keep him from doing his best."

"Charming's son could have got hurt," Adam counters.

"Ben's nearly an adult now," she reminds him. "We've told him what people may come to believe should he use his natural athleticism. It's his decision now."

"That decision would impact our entire family," he disbelieves.

"I was just trying to have fun," Ben defends, and his parents face him. "It was a birthday party. It's not like I was trying out for a college league."

"Which you know you can't," his mother reminds him.

"I still don't get that," Ben quietly comments. "It's not like I'm using steroids or anything. I don't have an unfair advantage. People would just think I do."

His mother sighs, "Honey." before she glances at her husband and lets out a breath.

Ben looks between them, "What is it?"

"Your natural abilities aren't completely natural," his father begins.

"They're genes you got from your father," she clarifies. "Genes that didn't change back after the curse broke."

Ben's mouth gapes, "You're saying I have beast genes?" and his heartbeat quickens. It's just as he had feared.

"Nothing so drastic," his mother reassures. "You're just stronger than you should be."

"And I sleep half the day," Ben's eyes widen, "and for some nonsensical reason I have to have meat."

"About that," his father remembers. "We need to talk about why you stole from me."

Ben eyes down and shakes his head, "I am sorry." before he peers up. "I didn't mean to do it. Really."

"You expect me to believe that?" his father gruffly responds.

"But it's true," Ben's pitch raises as he faces him, and tears intrude his eyes. "It just happened. I swear, I didn't mean to do it." He had remembered the stale sweetness of the juice in the steak, and he figured his father wouldn't miss one more piece; however, the next thing he knew it was gone. It was just all gone, and there was nothing he could do. "I'm sorry." His parents stay silent, and he gulps, his breaths shaking, "Am I in trouble?"

"We just want to help," his mother reassures.

"But you need to be honest with us," his father sternly states.

"I am being honest," Ben screeches, before he sobs, "I went in for one. It was one, and then there was none. I had them all. That was it." He shakes his head, "I didn't mean to."

"You must have been pretty hungry to eat six steaks," his father quietly states.

Ben keeps quiet, one arm held over his stomach and his other leaning on his knee with the hand held to his mouth as he shakes. "Do you want a hug?" his mother offers.

"I don't know," Ben whispers.

She moves to his seat and wraps her arms around him, "It's okay. You're okay."

"Belle," Adam concerns. "I don't think you should be doing that."

Ben inhales the sweet scent of cantaloupe, and he hears his mother laugh, "It's just a hug. They heal. Children need affection."

"You just said he was nearly an adult," Adam reminds her. Ben moves the wavy, brown hair behind her ear, and his heartrate slows even more as the scent engulfs him. There's still the hurt, though, and there's this sensation that if he were to give in, if he were to bite into that blue vein and take her sweetness, then it would make everything okay. It would make all his problems disappear. "That's enough."

When Ben's mother moves away, he's removed from the trance and his eyes move from his mother to his father. He questions, "What were we talking about?"

"You need to eat more meat," he instructs. "Good meat."

"Good meat?" Ben questions.

"Beef," his father elaborates. "Not chicken. Not ham. Beef."

Ben nods, "Yeah."

"I mean it," his father's eyes widen.

"I know."

"Which means you need to have lunch when you wake up," his mother comments.

"And an extra meal during the night," his father inserts.

"But that's three meals," Ben complains.

"Which is normal," his mother reminds him.

He shakes his head, "I can't do that."

"And why ever not?" his mother disbelieves.

"That's not the way I eat," Ben sighs. "And I have too much to do. When I start to work, I don't like to stop."

"You need to eat," his mother's brown eyes gleam with worry.

"I know," Ben frustrates. "But isn't twice a day enough. I eat a lot when I eat, anyway. It's not like I'm starving myself." There's a sudden sinking feeling, and he realizes he's lied.

"I think that's reasonable," his father inputs.

"Really?" Ben frowns.

"But you can't just make a bowl of instant potatoes and mix a pound of cheese into it," his eyes widen. "You need to make meat the main part of your diet."

When Ben doesn't say anything his mother explains, "Your body needs the protein and fat. If you don't eat enough of it, then it's going to keep taking your fat and muscle."

"Yeah," Ben accepts.

"And the heart is a muscle," she sternly eyes him.

"Okay. I get it," Ben complains. "I'll eat meat." He faces his father, "Good meat."


	21. The Thing

**The Thing **

**(Sunday Night, June 30****th****)**

"Go on," Evie nudges Mal forward. "Tell him."

"Eves," Mal seethes.

Ben eyes between the two, "Tell me what?"

Mal sighs and faces him, her mouth hung open, before she irritably says, "I kissed Lonnie."

He slightly nods, "Okay."

Mal shakes her head, "What? No 'why' or 'how could you'?"

"No," Ben frowns, before he awkwardly smiles, "We're even now."

"Even now?" Evie inquires.

"No. Wait," Mal holds up a hand. "What did you do?" He folds his hands, his heart quickening. How is he supposed to say this? "Well? Spit it out."

"I slept with Chad," he hurries.

"You slept with him?" Mal's eyes widen in disbelief.

"Not slept slept," Ben shuts his eyes hard. "I mean… we shared a bed. To sleep."

Evie narrows her eyes, "Doesn't Aziz live in a palace?"

Ben grimaces, "Yes, he does, and no one knows we did that."

"Okay," Mal takes a breath. "But you didn't actually do anything."

Ben nervously laughs and scratches the back of his head, "Anything is such a—"

"Ben," Mal's eyes flicker bright green, and he falters.

"A big word," he quietly finishes.

"Just tell us what you did," Evie sighs. "You're you. It can't be that bad."

"I, uh." He clears his throat, scrunching his eyebrows, "I may or may not have gave him a… a, uh, hickey."

Mal widens her eyes even more, "That is so not even."

"It really wasn't like that," Ben frowns, as his eyes glance down. "It just happened." He notices Evie shake her head, and he extends an arm, "What? It did."

Mal crosses her arms, "That still doesn't explain why."

Ben wets his lips and eyes between them, "If I tell you to leave, she's just going to tell you later, isn't she?"

Evie grins, "How perceptive." and he looks off.

"Ben," Mal tiredly says. "Just tell me."

He whispers something, and Evie gives a look, "Sorry. I didn't catch that."

"He has a thing for blood," Mal softly states, before she and Evie give each other a look.

"I know it's weird," Ben eyes down for a moment.

"Define 'thing'," Evie interrupts.

Ben faces her, "Well." but when his eyes shift away, they meet Mal and he scratches the black of his head even harder.

"Would you stop that?" Evie's eyes widen, and she moves forward to take his hands and hold them together. "We just want to know." She eyes Mal, "We won't judge."

Mal slightly shakes her head, "Yeah. I'll listen." Ben's frown deepens, and Evie gives Mal a look. "What do you want to me say?" she lifts a hand. "Whatever this 'thing' is," Mal emphasizes, "he thought he should tell Chad about it and not me."

"Because," Ben quietly comments, and they face him. "Chad I can live with… judging me. He does it anyway." The tears intrude his eyes, "But you—"

"Okay. I get it," Mal cringes. "So," she slowly says. "What is this 'thing'?"

His eyes shift, "I just like it, I guess."

"Okay," Mal unsurely responds.

"And it doesn't even taste like metal," Ben explains. "I don't get why people keep saying it does."

"Well, it does taste like metal," Mal thinks. "But I don't care, really."

Evie half laughs, as she tells him, "She used to try to eat her necklaces."

"Not eat," Mal defends. "I just liked to chew on them."

Evie looks back at Ben, "So, what does blood taste like to you?"

Ben lifts a shoulder and makes a face, "Not metal? I don't know."

"It doesn't matter," Mal intrudes. "Ben. I don't think this is as bad as you think it is." She notices him eye down, "Unless, there's something you're not saying, because when people say they have a 'thing' for something, half of the time it's about sex." He faces her, unsettled, and she raises her eyebrows, "So, question. When we… do things, are you thinking about blood?" He shifts his stance, and Mal lets out a breath. "Okay. Well, do you think about sex when you… when you have blood."

Ben fails to answer immediately, and Mal looks away in stress. "It's not like I think about sex when I'm eating steak," Ben defends.

"When you were giving Chad that hickey," Mal puts up air quotes, "were you thinking about sex then?"

"It's not about him," Ben's voice raises.

"No, Ben," she counters. "It is. Because, if this thing you did with Chad wasn't just about the blood, then that means you were actually with him."

Ben puts up a hand, "Can you slow down."

"If you didn't do that with Chad just for the blood," Mal rewords, "then you cheated on me. And you just blamed it on needing the blood."

"He just smelled too good." Ben objects, "I couldn't help it. I needed to have him."

"Him," Mal notices. "Not the blood."

He watches her cross her arms, "I get… confused. Okay? If someone smells good, I don't know how I want them. I just want them." He glances off, "But Chad's a guy. It's not like I wanted him like that."

"Yeah," Evie murmurs. "Because, no one could ever like someone that's the same sex."

Ben gives her a look, "You're taking her side?"

Evie's eyes widen, "No, way. I'm not taking any side. I think you're both wrong."

Mal huffs at her, "We're both wrong?"

"Yes," Evie asserts, "because if you two can't go one day without each other without cheating on each other, then there's something seriously wrong."

"She does have a point," Ben realizes.

Mal narrows her eyes at him, "Says the real cheater. I was just trying to figure out a way to get heat without awkwardly laying in a bed with her with nothing to do."

"And I couldn't help myself," Ben says again. "I had to do it."

"Who?" Mal dismantles. "Who told you, you had to?"

Ben falls silent, frowning, before he shakes his head, "I'm done here."

When he turns around, Mal yells, "Fine. Go. Leave. Again."

Evie glances at Mal, before she hurries after Ben into the hall. She taps his shoulder before moving in front of him, "Hey." She notices the tears in his eyes, "Are you okay?"

"You know I had to," he quietly comments.

"It was the voice," she assumes. "It told you, you needed Chad's blood."

"It's not a voice," Ben manages. "It's… It's…"

"Intention," Evie finishes.

"It's a strong feeling," Ben finalizes. "I really couldn't help myself."

Evie slightly nods, "I get it."

Ben runs a hand over his mouth, glancing over his shoulder at the door, "Mal."

"You should tell her."

"I tried," he furiously whispers.

"You talked around it," Evie addresses, "but if you told her—"

"No," Ben hurries.

"You would have a reason," she finishes. "Mal would understand."

"Does she understand you?" he counters, and Evie eyes down. "That's what I thought."

Evie faces him, "Would you rather have Mal know about your binging and not understand or have her think you just wanted sex with Chad?" Ben doesn't speak, and Evie softly says, "Look. I can tell her for you, if you want."

"I—" Ben's heart speeds up, "I don't know."

Evie places a hand on his arm, "You're scared."

The tears leave his eyes, "No one can know. I only trust you."

"And Doug," Evie adds on. "You told him."

Ben thinks, "That was a mistake."

"You need to tell her," Evie asserts.

"Like I need to tell her I'm sick," he exasperates.

Evie frowns, "Ben. Don't you get it? If you don't tell Mal the truth about this, there will be no reason to tell her the truth about that. If you don't tell her why this happened, then you two are over. You get that?"

Ben's eyes shift, "I don't want to lose her."

"Then tell her," she emphasizes.

He shakes his head, "Sorry. I can't." before he rushes past her.

"Ben," Evie calls out, but he doesn't stop. He turns down the stairs, and Evie breathes in thought before going back to her room.

"He say anything?" Mal questions from the bed.

Evie shuts the door and stands in front of her, "Ben's a carnivore. He may not know it, but he needed that blood. And you know that."

"There's other places," Mal rationalizes. "He didn't need to get it from Chad, especially not if he knew he was confused about what he really wanted." She watches Evie fold her arms, eyeing down, and Mal sighs, "Okay. What did I say?"

"There's something you need to know," Evie softly states, "and Ben's too scared to, so I'll have to." Mal eyes over her in caution, and Evie explains, "Ben has binging problems."

She laughs, "Sorry. What?"

"Ben has binging issues," Evie sternly repeats. "When there's something he wants, he has to have it, and after he starts to eat, he can't stop. He wasn't saying he had to do it as an excuse. He said it, because he really couldn't stop himself."

Mal thinks, "He couldn't stop himself from telling Chad about his thing with blood and convincing him to offer some up? That requires a lot of planning, E."

"And you probably think when I was giving food away that that was a choice too," she assumes. "But it wasn't. I had to, because the voice told me to."

"The voice," Mal repeats.

"The eating disorder voice," Evie asserts. "The one that tells you you're never good enough, pretends to be on your side, offer solutions, and convince you to do things you really don't want to do."

Mal takes a minute, "And Ben has this voice?"

"He says it's more of a feeling," Evie quietens. "A sense of strong intent."

She glances down before meeting Evie's dark brown eyes, "Do you think the… intent made him do it?"

Evie slightly shakes her head, "I think he would have thought about it more, knew you would get upset, and stopped if he could have." She watches her nod, "But Mal." before she faces her again. "Even if this was a choice, you need to remember that you did things with your best friend to satisfy your needs for a long time without him knowing."

"And he came clean to me," Mal realizes.

"And Chad and him have been friends forever," Evie reminds her. "Chad and the blood is really no different from us and your heat issue."

Mal stands, "I should go find him, see if he's okay."

When she walks past her, Evie turns, "Apologizing wouldn't hurt either."

Mal halts and then whispers, "I'll think about it."

* * *

Mal knocks on the door, but when no one answers she slowly opens it. She notices Ben laying on the pull-out bed with the aqua blanket and softly says, "Hey."

"Hey," Ben mimics.

She shuts the door and walks over to sit beside him, "Look. I'm not good at saying sorry, but Evie says that you were telling the truth." He doesn't respond, and Mal hesitates, "Just tell me one thing: how much control… did you have a say in what happened with Chad?"

"Evie told you," he realizes.

"A strong feeling you couldn't ignore," Mal informs.

Ben sadly laughs, "I'm not crazy."

"No," Mal agrees. "I know." He quiets, and she asks again, "Did you have any control?"

Ben thinks, "Not a lot." and Mal nods. "He just… smelled so good, and I had to have him. And I lost it." He sits up and faces her, "Mal. I am—"

"You don't need to apologize," she interrupts. "If you really weren't in control, then you don't need to say sorry."

"It's just," Ben glances down before meeting her jade green eyes, "it was more than one time. People came the first time, and he left, and when he came back—"

"You know what?" Mal stresses as she takes his hands. "It's okay."

He frowns, "I thought you would be mad."

"I'm not happy about it." Mal takes a moment, "But my mother hypnotized me to do a lot of horrible things. I know what it's like to not have control, to be told to do something and feel a strong need to do it."

"You would know," Ben mutters.

"And this strong feeling that controls you," she continues, "I want you to be able to tell me when something is wrong. No matter what happens, I want to you come clean and tell me the truth like you did today."

Ben whispers, "Sometimes I can't tell a difference between it and me." and tears intrude his eyes. "I think I… Mal. I let it control me."

She shakes her head, "Why would you do that?"

"It's just easier," his voice crackles. "I'm tired of fighting it, I guess. I'm tired of fighting everything." He bends his head down, and the tears fall to the blanket. "Mal. There's something else." He meets her eyes, "Something I wanted to tell you for a long time."

She eyes over him, "What is it?"

"I'm sick." He heavily breathes, "My body temperature, it's high."

"I mean, I know that," Mal unsurely responds.

"It's hotter than you know," he whispers, and his pitch raises. "I take stuff for it. What you see or feel… it's after I take them."

Her eyes widen, "Ben. What are you saying?"

"When I really get sick," he informs, "I never know if… I have a good doctor, but—"

"You're saying I could lose you," she asserts, and when he fails to respond she shakes her head. "Who else knows?"

"Evie," Ben thinks. "She told me I had to tell you, but the time never…"

"Who else?" Mal frowns.

"My parents and Coach Jenkins." He lists, "And Aziz, and Doug, and Chad."

Mal looks off, "Of course, Chad knows."

"If anything happens," Ben explains, "I want him to be king." Mal faces him, and he stresses, "I don't want my father to take the crown back. If I… I want Chad to take over. You can make sure that happens, right?"

"Not by force." Mal pauses, "Why Chad? He's an idiot."

"An idiot who's been learning three," he looks off in annoyance. "Languages. He cares about his people, Mal. He plans to be able to talk to them and speak for them. He cares."

"He's a pill popper," Mal counters. "How's a drug addict supposed to be king?"

Ben falters, "You have a drinking problem. Are you saying you don't want to be my queen one day?" He halfheartedly laughs, "You know, if I make it there."

Mal's eyes lower, "I haven't really thought about it."

He lifts her chin, "I like us. I would like it to happen one day."

"I like us too," she settles. Ben brings a hand to his forehead, and Mal leans down to see him, "Ben? You okay?"

He shakes his head, "I hate crying." before he puts his arm down. "Mal. Can you…"

She frowns as she places a hand to his cheek, "You're really warm." before she moves it to his neck. "I can help, but just to be clear… I know you said you don't know what you want when you want someone, but we're not doing the blood thing when we're together. Okay?"

"Yeah," Ben quietly accepts, and when she notices his exhaustion, she moves forward to kiss his hot lips.

* * *

**Posted**: 04/27/2019

\- Thank you to everyone who's been reading. This weekend I will be starting a compilation of short stories for these series. I'm planning on it being called Islander Adventures, but I don't think all of the stories will actually be about the people from the Isle. But, unless enough stories add up over time and I end up having to separate them out, this seems more convenient. Yes, I know. Convenience is horribly sloppy when it comes to writing. The first mini story is called "The War of the Pink, Fluffy Blanket". Feel free to check it out. It's fairly short.

\- Also, sorry that there's no image yet for the thumbnail. I wanted to take the one from the first, change the coloring a little and add a 2 to it, but for some reason the image editor hasn't been loading the end result. The other thumbnails I've done recently, I've had to exclusively use the Paint software. I can't do it with the picture from the first story's thumbnail, though, because it doesn't have the same font.


	22. Normal

**Normal (Monday Night, July 1****st****)**

"So, this eating problem," Mal questions, "how does dinner work?"

"It's not a problem," Ben denies. "I'll be fine."

When they enter the dining room, Belle stands, "Mal." and she waits for her to face her. "May I speak with you in the kitchen for a moment?"

Mal watches Ben and Evie sit down next to each other, before she looks back at Belle, "It can't be done here?"

"Well," she thinks. "If you'd like."

She shakes her head, "Why not?"

"I wanted to ask," Belle explains, "about the wine cabinet."

"Oh, yeah." Mal recalls, "I stole from you. Are we done now?"

"Not quite," Belle frowns. "I know you have a problem, and I'd like to help."

"And how are you supposed to do that?"

"By keeping you from what we've been given," she evenly answers. "I just wanted to inform you that we will be putting a lock on it."

"You know, I could just hypnotize you to take it off and give me a bottle," Mal counters.

"Perhaps," Belle lets out a breath. "But I'm going to ask that you don't do that."

Mal continues to stare at her, "You don't need to worry. I have money. I just didn't feel like walking to the store."

"You're supposed to tell me," Jay reminds her. "We're supposed to share the bottle."

Mal gives him a look, "Well, I was alone by myself, and I didn't feel like sharing." before she turns back to Belle. "Are we done now?"

She nods, "For now." before she sits back down and Mal sits next to Ben.

He turns to her, "You stole wine from us?"

Mal partly smiles, "Maybe I wasn't in control of myself."

Evie gapes at her, "What's wrong with you? Are you drunk or something?"

"More like she ran out," Jay informs. "And it's everyone's fault but her own."

"Shut up," Mal yells at him. "You took half of it, remember, and you won't buy us any more with your ID."

"Because, I'm trying to help you," he frowns at her. "You told me to do this."

"Hell, I did," she shouts. "What are you going to do next? Break all of Hook's product, so he can come after us again?"

Evie notices her expression completely fall, "Mal."

She puts up a hand for Evie to stop, but it slowly closes as her mouth gapes, "I, uh." She shakes her head, "I have to go."

"Mal." She stands from the table, and Evie calls after her, "M." as she enters the hall.

When Evie stands to go after her, Ben questions, "You're not going to eat?"

She sighs, "Let's not do this tonight." before she rushes to Mal's room, goes inside, and find her in the bathroom.

"It was my fault," Mal cries, as she holds the blade in her hand. "If I didn't steal from Hook, then Jay would have never broken it. He would never gotten kidnapped, and—"

"Mal," Evie steps into the bathroom. "You can't keep blaming yourself."

"Who am I supposed to blame?" she inquires. "Jay?"

"Or you could move on," Evie thinks up.

Her frown deepens, "I remember everything." before she half laughs. "Well, everything I'm not supposed to. I couldn't pass a math test to save my life."

"It's not like you're ever going to need to know the property name for exchanging numbers in a formula, anyway," Evie rolls her eyes.

"I just wish I could forget," Mal whispers. "Forget Hook, everything that happened. The first— only time— I saw a dick, and, you know, when it happened, he cummed inside me." She shakes her head, "How am I supposed to ever do anything with Ben? Anything where he would… release, it would remind me."

"Has he asked you to?" Evie unsurely responds.

"No," Mal breathes. "But he wants me to be his queen someday, and…"

"Royals need to have children," Evie realizes, "which requires sex. With semen."

"Unless things have changed," Mal thinks. "But, you know, it's more than that. No matter what he says, Ben's still a guy. And he thinks about sex. We know he does. But how am I even supposed to… I don't know if I could even give him a blow job."

"Well, you couldn't do that, anyway," Evie points out. "Your saliva would numb him."

Mal glances down, "Carlos pointed out that a condom might fix that." before she fixates on the blade and twirls it between her fingers.

"Mal," she slowly says, "I'm sure Ben would understand."

"I can't do anything for him."

"You lowered his temperature last night," Evie counters.

"And it ended with him with a boner and nipping at my neck," Mal cringes.

Evie frowns, "You're not thinking about breaking up with him, are you?"

Mal takes a moment, "It's just a lot. He's sick, so he does need me like I need him. But then, he doesn't know the difference between food and sex, I'm not comfortable doing everything with him, and now he might be trying to go to Chad for it?"

"You don't know that," she hurries.

"And if he doesn't have control over himself," Mal disbelieves, "where does that leave me? How am I supposed to get mad at him for biting me when we're together, if this voice or whatever is telling him to do it?"

Evie frowns, "The voice tells me to lie when it gets scared. It doesn't want people to know about it, but so long as you make Ben and his intent feel comfortable, all you should need to do is ask how he's feeling. He should know if he's on the verge of a binge or not. And if he is, all you need to do is keep your distance until he feels better."

"You mean," Mal tilts her head, "unless he snaps and pins me down and—"

"Mal," Evie loudly interrupts, and she faces her. "Ben has his fair share of problems, but he's a nice guy. All we need to do is make sure he's eating right, and it should be fine."

Mal notices Evie look out the bathroom door, "What is it?"

Evie turns back to her, "Ben might not feel compelled to eat if I'm skipping again."

She eyes down, "Then go."

Evie kneels in front of her, "No."

Mal watches her take the blade from her hands, "What are you—"

"Not tonight," she quietly comments.

"I have to do something," she disbelieves. "I can't just—"

Evie interrupts her words with a kiss, and when they part, she asserts, "Do me."

"You're going to get hurt," Mal insists.

"I'm better now."

Evie attempts to smile, and Mal scrunches her eyebrows, "No, you're not."

Evie takes a deep breath, "Look. M. I'm just asking for fifteen minutes. It will help keep your mind off of things. No one's going to get hurt."

Mal eyes over her, "You do have a beautiful body." before she unzips the leather bottom of Evie's shirt and loosens the strings holding the top up. "Can we make it thirty?"

* * *

"So," Ben's father questions, "what piece will you be playing for your birthday?"

"Piece?" he questions.

"The piano piece, honey," his mother smiles, before she eats a forkful of potatoes.

Ben frowns, "I didn't think I was doing that this year, you know, with when I got my head hurt and all that."

"But you're better now," his mother counters. "Why wouldn't you do a piece?"

Ben glances at Carlos and Jay before wetting his lips, "I know I'm better, but I'm not fully better. I forgot things."

Belle and Adam give each other a look, before she excuses, "That's not necessarily from the accident. It could just be stress."

"And you perform a piece every year," his father reminds him. "People look forward to seeing you."

"And performing themselves," his mother adds on.

"There's only a week left," Ben exasperates. "What do you want me to do? Mozart?"

"That sounds nice," his father agrees.

Ben gives his parents a look, and Carlos questions, "What did you play last year?"

"Beethoven." He disbelieves, "And that took me three months. Mozart is going to be just as bad."

"Then you've better get to it," his father rationalizes.

Ben's mouth gapes, and his mother comments, "Honey, it's just muscle memory. I'm sure you will do just fine."

Carlos gives Jay a look, "Are you texting someone?"

"Yeah." He looks up, "My girlfriend." before he turns to Ben's parents. "I was wondering if I could invite her over sometime."

"Well," Belle glances at Adam, "who's this girl?"

Carlos crosses his arms, "Princess Ruby."

"Rapunzel's daughter," Adam recalls.

Belle smiles, "Of course, you can. Just keep it to the East Wing."

"And no sex," Adam points a finger. "We don't need any conflict with another royal."

"A lawyer, no less," she adds on.

Carlos scoffs, "Like that's going to stop him."

Jay gives him a look, "Do you have a problem?"

"Yeah, actually," his eyes widen. "You're a slut."

"Why?" Jay's eyes narrow. "Because I'm finally committing myself to one person and it's not you?" Carlos leans back in the chair, and Jay shakes his head, "You're so childish. You know that? Why don't you grow up?"

"Why don't you stop being a jerk, you putain coureur de jupons?"

Jay stares him down, "It's kind of hard to insult someone when you still didn't tell me what that even means."

"It means you're a jerk," he simply answers.

"You shouldn't be repeating things when you don't know what it means," Jay judges.

Carlos's mouth gapes, "Fuck you."

"No," Jay hums, meeting his blue eyes. "I still don't think so." The chair screeches when Carlos abruptly stands, and after he leaves Ben frowns at Jay. He looks away from Ben and picks up a cookie, "What is this? Nut?"

Ben watches Jay take a bite, "You never said sorry, did you?"

"Sorry for what?" he counters.

"How about for breaking up with him on his birthday?" Ben strongly states.

"Pardon?" his mother gasps before turning to Jay.

"First off," Jay diminishes, "it wasn't his birthday." He takes another bite, "And you can't break up with someone you were never really going out with."

"You had a thing," Ben rebuttals.

"That thing is illegal here," Jay points out. "He needs to move on."

"How about you apologize first?" Ben suggests.

"I did apologize," Jay asserts. "That clingy kid's just holding a grudge."

After a long silence, Belle comments, "Ben. Why don't you eat your meatloaf?"

Ben pushes the plate away and stands, "I have a piece to get."

"You told us you would eat," his father sternly reminds him.

"Well, you're not going to get me to," Ben spouts. "I can't do this."

"Honey," his mother begins.

"Do you want me to eat or practice?"

"You can do both." She nods down, "Now, please. Sit."

Ben shakes his head, "I'm not doing this."

"You need to," his father's blue eyes widen.

"There's no point," Ben shouts. "I want to do something— something…" He breathes in stress, "Something where there's a point."

"You need to eat to live," his mother reminds him. "There is a point."

"No," Ben denies. "Okay? I am just so tired of eating and eating and eating." He gulps, and his breathing shakes, "Food shouldn't have to be my life." His parents fail to respond, and he shakes his head, "I have papers to…"

After Ben turns around and heads to the hallway stairs, Jay finishes his potatoes and stands, "I'm just going to…" He points to the hall and heads off.

Belle sighs, "It must be a full moon."

"Actually, it's a dark moon tonight," Adam counters.

"So," she decides, "I'm going to give Ben a moment and then go talk to him."

"It's the hunger that's making him act this way," he frowns. "If we could just get him to eat right, he would see the point."

Out in the hallway, Jay knocks on the door, and after he hears a shuffling, the door opens to reveal Mal. She breathes, "Hey."

He notices her messy hair, "Don't worry. I won't say anything."

"What?" Mal questions. He points down, and she sees the hem of her tank top, "Ugh."

"So," Jay continues. "I just thought you should know Ben's skipping dinner. I'm guessing that's kind of a big deal."

"Right. Yeah," Mal shuts her eyes and claws through her curls. "I'll check on him later."

* * *

After the papers print, Ben takes them and starts for the door; however, then there's a knock and his mother comes in. He eyes off, "I have nothing to say."

"Then let me," she steps forward. "I hate to see you in so much pain."

He awkwardly smiles, "I'm not in pain."

"You were practically crying up there," she doubts, and he looks off again. "Look." She hesitates, "You, uh… You've been growing, and… you may have noticed some changes."

Ben shuts his eyes hard, holding up a hand, "I'm not doing this with you." before he moves past her.

She turns towards him, "I know this must seem scary, but you need to know that… what you're experiencing, it's normal."

He faces her in disbelief, "Normal?"

"Yes," she affirms. "And no matter how strange these changes may seem to you, you need to know that you can come to us."

"God," Ben cringes. "Mother. Can we not talk about this?"

"Now, Ben," she partly smiles, "you're a young man now, and we should be able to discuss these things rationally."

"We already had the puberty talk," he defends.

"Yes," she accepts, "but we feel as though you've gone through more recent changes, changes that you might not have been the most prepared for."

His eyes widen, "I'm fine. Really."

"You really should consider opening up to me," she counters. "These things don't need to be scary. There are perfectly normal expla—"

"No," he shouts. "Just stop." He takes a deep breath, "Nothing about this is normal."

"You're young," she excuses.

"I'm not an idiot," Ben stresses. "This isn't normal." He tears up, "It's things I got from Father, isn't it? That's why food doesn't help. It's why I can't chew vegetables, my hair is so weird, and why my voice…"

She watches his expression fall, "What about your voice?"

It takes him a minute, "This isn't normal." and it feels wrong. It all just feels so wrong.

"Your father had to go through this too," she informs. "You're not alone."

Ben eyes down, notices the sheet music, and holds it up, "I have to practice." He turns back around to leave the room, his mother hopelessly calling after him.

* * *

Later in the kitchen, Ben takes a bite out of a slice of the meatloaf; however, it's dry and spiced, and he spits it into the trash before chucking the piece in after it. He puts the leftovers back into the fridge and searches for something else. There's hamburger and bacon, but that would need to be cooked and he doesn't have the time. He notices some lunch meat and takes the turkey slices out, before he devours the contents and sets the package aside. There has to be more, anything else. He opens the bottom drawer. Vegetables. What is he supposed to do with vegetables? He slams the drawer shut and gives up on the fridge, before he heads for the cabinets. There are things left from Eco Week. There must be.

When Ben opens the can cabinet, he takes out a can of ravioli and two more of different chunky stews. A can opener. Ben scours the drawers. Where is the can opener? He shuts the last drawer and looks up at the machine, before he places the can underneath its head; however, he can't get it to work. He never understood this thing. Apparently, when he was using it, it had been broken, and now that it's fixed, he can't use it and he's the only one who can't.

"Ben?"

He hears Mal's voice and frustrates, "Do you see it anywhere?"

Mal walks closer and notices him fumbling with the cans, before she sees the hand can opener next to the sink and hands it to him, "Here." Ben snatches it from her, and she watches as he hurries to open all three. "Ben." She hesitates, "Are you okay?"

Ben puts up a hand in stress, before he faces her, "I'm fine. Now, go." He turns back to the cans, but Mal still doesn't leave. He finds a spoon and takes a scoop of the cold ravioli out of the can. A few more bites later, there's a tinging as he scrapes the sides, and then he replaces the empty can with a new one. One scoop in, and he cringes. It's disgusting. Cheese and ham chowder needs to be cooked.

Mal watches as he dumps the contents into a bowl, place it in the microwave, and go grab another can of ravioli, "Is there anything I can do?"

He gives her a stern look, "You can leave. I need to do this alone."

"Ben," she worries.

"I said go," he shouts at her, and after a moment she nods and complies. He hates to see her so sad, but what else could he do? He goes to the microwave to stir the chowder, before he shuts the door and finishes off the second can of ravioli.

After five cans are emptied, he hears the footsteps, "I told you to—" but the scent isn't Mal's. "Mother?" his voice lowers, before he turns to her.

She notices the cans and steps towards him, "I was thinking, perhaps you would like it if I gave Mrs. Potts the night off and made you that cheesy hamburger pasta you like so much."

Ben frowns, "That was when I was a kid."

"So," she pauses, "you don't like it anymore?"

"You make the hamburger dry," he complains.

She shakes her head once, "I can undercook it."

"And add more hamburger?" he questions.

"If you'd like." Ben's eyes lower, and she assumes, "I'm guessing you'd like the noodles to be overcooked?"

He faces her, "You know I don't like them hard."

"They're not hard," she counters.

"The inside is harder than the outside," he disputes. "I like them soft."

"Then, I'll make them soft."

Ben hesitates, "And maybe don't have the broccoli in it."

She partly smiles, "Honey. It just adds color. You can't even taste it."

"It ruins the texture," he stresses.

She nods, "Very well. No broccoli this time." Ben nods, and she inquires, "Will there be any other requests?"

"No," his eyes shift. "I think that's it."

She walks up to him, "I'm going to need you to eat it, though."

"Yeah," Ben agrees. "I promise."

She smiles, "Good." before she notices the cans behind him and laughs. "Oh, how I wish I had your metabolism. That must be two thousand calories already."

"Well, um," Ben scratches the back of his head.

She puts the two unopened ones away, "Come on, now. Go work or practice or what-have-you. Dinner's in six hours." Ben watches the cabinets close. Those are his. He was going to eat those. She smiles at him, "What would you like for dessert?"

Ben takes a moment, "Pumpkin pie?"

She smiles, "I can do that."


	23. You Need Some Serious Help

**You Need Some Serious Help **

**(Tuesday Afternoon, July 2****nd****)**

When Jay passes him, Carlos's eyes narrow, "Really? No hey, how are you doing?"

He turns around, "Carlos. I really can't do this right now."

"Why? Your girlfriend keeping you busy?"

"Mal, actually," Jay's eyebrows furrow. "Not that it's any of your business."

"You know," Carlos thinks up, "I never thought of you as the princess type. I mean, you've gone for some pretty dumb girls before, but—"

"Stop it," he steps forward. "Before you say something you regret."

"Her mother was kidnapped and kept in a tower, didn't even try to escape."

Jay takes another step, his eyes widening, "I'm warning you—"

"It's kind of hard to find a blond that's not dumb, though," Carlos comments. "You must really miss me."

Jay charges at him, "I said stop." and he pins him against the wall. He grits his teeth, "Ruby's mother is a lawyer now, and she's just as smart as she is, so…" He notices Carlos's grin, and his expression falters as he looks over him. "You said those things to get me mad," Jay realizes. "You wanted me to hurt you." His face toughens, before he lets go of his arms and takes a step back, yelling, "You're sick. You know that?"

He starts to march off, and Carlos frowns, "Jay."

He twists back around, "No." and gives a stern look. "You made me hurt you. You played me, just because you needed some sexual thrill."

"Jay," Carlos loudly says.

"And you know that I have a girlfriend, that I've been saying no to you, but you just couldn't give up." He shakes his head, "You know, I could probably report you for this."

"I didn't plan this," Carlos desperately defends.

"You're going to get in trouble," he seriously states.

"Jay, no," he pleads.

"Not me," he stares him down. "I'm not going to say anything. But you…" He eyes him up-and-down, "You need some serious help."

* * *

"I know she knows," Mal complains. "She knows about what happened to me. She knows everything about Ben now. And all because I couldn't keep my own damn thoughts to myself." She takes another drink from the bottle, "And she just had no answers for me."

Jay takes the bottle from her, "Are you upset, because she's psychic or because she didn't let you know she knew?"

After he takes a sip Mal snags the bottle back, "What bothers me is this whole Auradon thing, where people just act like the world is sweet and perfect."

When the bottle reaches the halfway point, he takes it, "Mal. You know these people can't help that they have better lives than we do."

Mal takes the bottle again, "Maybe, but—"

"Hey," Jay steals it back. "It's my turn."

She looks off in annoyance, "These people can at least act like the world isn't perfect. They don't need to cover their eyes to every bad thing they see."

Jay takes a drink, "They didn't cover their eyes for Audrey."

"No," Mal counters, "because Audrey is the definition of innocent, and some villain like me even trying to touch her is the worst thing in the world."

"I mean, you were trying to kiss her," Jay defends.

Mal's mouth gapes, "You're on her side now?"

"No." He grips onto the bottle with both hands, "I just…"

"Jay," she half laughs. "What happened?"

When he faces her, he sees her concern, "It's just Carlos." He looks down at the bottle, "He's just been…" Jay shakes his head, "It's nothing."

"I know you," Mal gives a look. "It's not nothing."

Jay continues to frown, "I don't even really know… It's just…" He makes a noise before facing her, "He tried to get me to hurt him, and I fell for it."

Mal takes a moment, before she nabs the bottle back, "Don't worry. I'll take care of him for you."

"How?" Jay doubts.

"Well," she slowly states, "I was thinking I would hide some chocolate around the East Wing and tell him I'm not telling him where it is." She laughs, "Or even better, do it without the chocolate. He'd be so tortured for weeks."

"Mal," Jay softly responds, "I think he's looking for the more physical stuff right now."

"So," Mal changes course, "I'll just have to give him so much pain that he doesn't want it anymore."

"I'm being serious," he angers.

"Well, what do you want me to do, Jay?" Mal counters. "Carlos is only fifteen. He'd have to wait an entire year to even go to one of those prostitution places, and what if it turns out what he wants is illegal? Huh? What then?"

Jay sighs, "Look. You don't even need to do anything." before he takes the bottle and drinks. "I just wish he didn't need it."

Mal steals the bottle and finishes it off, "Well, I wish Ben didn't feel like biting me every time we do stuff. Looks like both of our sex lives are crap."

Jay hesitates, "He bites you?"

She shakes her head, "He tries to."

"Is that new?"

"No," she breathes. "I think it's just getting worse, happening more often." Her eyes widen, and she stares forward, "He used to make us stop when he'd get like that."

"No," Jay makes a noise. "I mean." Mal looks at him and watches as he moves her brown hair over her shoulder. "Did he do this?"

"It could have been worse," Mal mentions.

Jay shakes his head, "I don't like this. He's forcing this on you. It's Hook all over again."

Mal's eyes widen, "Don't you dare compare Ben to him." before her tone softens. "He's just… hungry, you know? If he wasn't —" She places a hand to her head, "I should have never hypnotized him. I made him forget everything about being a beast hybrid, and now he doesn't even know what to do."

"He tried to kill himself," he reminds her.

"But do we really know that had to do with him finding out?" Mal suggests.

"Yeah," Jay plainly answers. "He told you that if you didn't hypnotize him, then he would try it again."

"He didn't say those exact words," she denies.

"It's what he meant," Jay sternly responds. "Mal. You did nothing wrong. If anyone did anything wrong, it's Ben for telling you that if he died it would be your fault. He made you hypnotize him. You didn't have a choice."

"I could have hypnotized him to not kill himself," she mumbles.

"And how long would that have lasted?" She looks away, and he asserts, "Mal. None of this is your fault."

She faces him, "Then why does it feel so wrong?"

Jay takes the bottle from her, "Because. Alcohol is a depressant." and he stands. "Come on." Mal pulls herself from the ground and Jay smiles, "You can sleep this off."

* * *

"Hey," Jay complains. "That's your fourth plate."

Ben awkwardly smiles, "So?"

"Honey," his mother chimes in. "Give the rest to them. It's time for dessert anyway."

Ben frowns at Jay for a minute, before he passes the large bowl to him. "I'll get it," his father offers, and Ben watches as he makes his way to the kitchen.

When he looks back at his mother, she smiles, "Now, Ben. There's no reason to be upset with me. I know you liked the dinner tonight, but I'm sure you want to save a room for the pie."

Because, he couldn't have both. Ben looks away from her. He could have had both. There's a tension in his stomach, yes, but it feels hollow and his teeth still ache to bite something. How is he supposed to bite pumpkin pie? There's nothing to chew, nothing but the crust; although, neither did the pasta. He may have chosen the worst dinner for himself tonight. "Here we are," he hears his father cheerfully reenter the room.

"Adam," his mother surprises. "What is this?"

Ben watches his father set the pumpkin pie and white cake onto the table, before he sits and turns towards her. "Well," he stumbles his words. "I know I'm not the easiest man to live with. So." He gestures to the cake, "I thought I'd get you something nice."

Mal, Jay, and Carlos exchange looks, as Belle smiles, "Is this coconut?"

"Yes. It is," he smiles back.

"Oh," she offers him a loving look. "But, Adam. You hate coconut."

"Well, I mean," he places a hand to his chin, "if you don't want it, I can take it back."

Her mouth gapes, "I said no such thing." and he chuckles. "Is there a knife?"

"Right here," he carefully offers it to her.

"This is so weird," Carlos mutters, and when Ben looks over Mal eyes away from them and the other two attend to their food.

His mother comments, "Ben. You like coconut."

He eyes over the white frosting and chocolate flakes. He's going to eat it all. He's going to eat it all, and then he's going to feel sick. He can practically taste the nauseating sugar already. He clears his throat, "You know, actually, I should be practicing."

"Ben," his mother frowns. "You're not even going to have the pie?"

The entire pie, yes. He shakes his head, "Save me some. I can have it later."

After Ben moves into the ballroom, Carlos intrudes, "I'll have some."

Jay cracks a smile, "All your teeth are going to fall out."

"Shut up," Carlos narrows his eyes at him. "I wasn't talking to you."

"Can't you two just get along?" Belle sighs. They merely eye each other, and she takes a breath, "Okay. Carlos, why don't you take a piece?"

"Thank you," he smiles, before he reaches over to take some pie.

Adam notices her expression fall, "Belle. Are you alright?"

She smiles at him, "Yes." before she places a slice of cake onto her plate.

* * *

Later on, there's a knock at the door, and when Carlos answers, he frowns, "Belle."

"I'd like to speak with you," she explains. "May I come in?" He steps aside, and after she comes in, he shuts the door. He faces her but doesn't speak, so she asks, "May I see your arm?"

"What?" he fearfully defends. "No," he says louder in defense. He doesn't know what's there, but she must have seen something. Scars from burns, some cut he hadn't felt, or Jay. It's Jay. His mouth opens in realization. It's a bruise. He can feel it now.

"Please," she frowns. "I won't say anything." Carlos slowly lifts his sleeve up and looks down to see the imprint for himself. It's a hand. There's no mistaking it on his pale skin. "Would you like to tell me what happened?"

This is embarrassing. He tries to speak, but it takes a minute, "I was just trying to get Jay's attention."

Belle offers a solemn look, "That's not the kind of attention you want."

Carlos glances down, "It was probably the wrong way to go about it."

"Has this happened before?"

He lifts his head and meets her brown eyes, "Jay's not Adam."

Her eyes lower, "Of course, he's not." before she folds her hands and faces him again. "I'm just saying that if you feel scared or, uh, concerned, you can tell me."

"I'm not scared," Carlos evenly answers.

She nods before eyeing the wound, "Does it hurt?"

"No." It's just warm. That's all.

"Not even when you touch it?" she makes sure.

He presses his fingers on the bruise, and it stings; however, he doesn't react, and he excuses, "I have a high pain tolerance."

"Alright, then," she partly smiles, and when he doesn't say anything, she walks past him.

He turns to her, "I don't care if I get hurt." and she turns back around. He hesitates, "I, uh. You're going to probably see things with me, but you don't need to worry. I'm fine."

Her eyes widen, "Be careful." and after he smiles in answer, he lets her leave.


	24. Hurt

**Hurt **

**(Wednesday Afternoon, June 3****rd****)**

When Evie walks into the kitchen she halts, as she sees the large pizza, side of chicken alfredo, meaty pasta, and cheese sticks. He looks up from his phone, drops the pizza slice back onto the plate, and Evie steps forward, "Ben." He fails to speak, and she sits across from him, "You know, you've been binging all week."

"Yeah," he whispers. "I know."

She eyes his phone, "What are you watching?"

"Oh." He turns it over, "Just some movie."

"You didn't feel like watching it in your room?"

His eyes shift, "My parents want me to stop eating pizza. I thought the East Wing would be the last place they would go."

Evie looks over the large amount of food, shaking her head, "Ben. Why are you doing this?" She rolls her eyes, "Sorry. That's a stupid question. I hate it when people ask me that. I know why. Just…"

When she lets out a breath, Ben frowns, "No. I get what you're trying to ask." He hesitates, "I just… Well, first thing." Ben takes a breath, "With me I can binge or eat nothing or do both at the same time. Right now, it's just more of the binge part."

"And?" Evie inquires.

He lets out a breath, "I can't stop. Ever since… Chad, it's like nothing's good enough. Everything just tastes bad now, and it doesn't really help. So, I've just been… like this."

"You're still thinking about Chad's blood," she realizes.

Ben cringes, "I know it's weird."

"Stop saying it's weird," she lets out a breath. "We're past that. Okay? You can be honest with me. And Mal."

"I just…" His heart quickens, and he takes a drink of the Diet Coke, "It had this taste, not like anything else."

Evie's eyebrows furrow, "What did it taste like?"

He shakes his head, "Like… I forget. It's that taste animals get when something they eat can hurt them. It's to keep them from eating it, but now that I had it, it's all I can think of."

"Bitter?" she questions, and he lifts a shoulder. "You know what it is, don't you?" His mouth slightly opens, but his eyes show he doesn't know. "It's the drugs, Ben," Evie sternly eyes him. "The blood tasted bitter, because he's a drug addict. It got into his bloodstream, and now it's in you. You want his blood, because you want the drugs."

"It's just a script," Ben dismisses. "When I take stuff, it has to be twice the amount for it to do anything."

"And how much do you think Chad is taking?" Evie counters, and Ben looks off as he makes a disgruntled noise. "You know, drinking his blood wasn't the smartest thing to do."

Ben faces her, "Look. I don't have a drug problem. I just want him, because he tastes different. That's it. It's not the drugs I'm after."

"You don't get it," she folds her arms. "Chad's your drug. I don't care if the blood isn't making you high. It's a unique taste you're getting addicted to."

"Unique?" he repeats.

"Different," she asserts. "Your body wants his blood because it's different, and I bet you're binging because you're looking for that taste and can't find it anywhere else."

"So?" Ben dismisses. "Let's say you're right. What, then?"

It takes her a minute, "Is Chad coming to your birthday party?"

He gives her a look, "Of course, he is."

"You should make sure he doesn't," she opinionates.

"Why?" Ben yells.

"Tell me," she evenly responds, "when Chad comes, are you going to be able to keep your hands off of him?"

Ben half laughs, "That's…" before he wets his lips. "You know what? If I want Chad, I'll have Chad. And I don't care what you or Mal, my father, or anyone else thinks."

Evie nods, "That's what the voice wants. Now, what do you want?"

"I," Ben hurriedly debates, before he falters. "I, uh… I just… I want to be close to Chad, I want to sink my teeth in his neck, and I… I want to have all of him." He places a hand to head, before he shakily says, "I'm sick."

Evie frowns, "I don't think those are the things you want."

"But it would feel so good to do it," Ben counters, and he lets out a breath. "You know, I thought about that with Mal too." He faces her, and she sees the tears in his eyes. "Do you want me to stay away from her too?"

"You can tell Mal when you're not doing good," Evie softly says. "Chad doesn't know, does he?"

"He thinks it's a sex thing. Which," Ben solemnly laughs, "who the hell knows if it is or not. I don't know. I'm just so messed up, and… I can't think anything through." He shakes his head, "I'm a pute. I got him off, just so I could have more of it. I moved in on him, just so I could have it." He eyes the table, "I was thinking he would say no, you know. I thought if I made the move, he would put me in my place… But he didn't, and now…" He calms as his temperature raises, "How am I going to have him here? What are we going to talk about after what I did to him?"

"With him," Evie corrects. "I don't think he cared." Ben keeps silent, and she suggests, "You could uninvite him, make sure he doesn't come and give you guys some time to readjust."

"Yeah." He realizes, "I can't do it, though. He likes these things. He will make sure I let him come. He's good at getting me to do things."

"It has to be you." She explains, "He respects you."

"I can't do it," Ben eyes her. "I can't say no to him. He turns it around and—"

"It's okay," Evie interrupts. "I'll do it with you."

He nods, "Okay." before he reaches for his phone. "Okay."

* * *

When Ben hears the knock on the office door, he calls out, "Come in, Mal."

She opens the door and shuts it behind her, "How did you know it was me?"

"You smell like smoke," he simply says.

"Smoke?"

He lifts his eyes from the paperwork and reassures, "In a good way."

"Right." She moves on, stepping forward, "Well, your mom wants me to get you for dinner. We're having spaghetti."

Ben complains, "Spaghetti again?" before he shakes his head. "Tell her I'm too tired."

"Ben," Mal sternly says.

"No," he interrupts. "Okay?" He runs a knuckle over his forehead, "I'm not feeling well."

"A fever?" she frowns, and when he tries to burry himself back into his work, she walks up to his desk. "Let me help."

He shakes his head, "No."

"Ben," she halfheartedly laughs.

"I don't feel good," he interrupts.

"That's why I want to help."

When she reaches below his cheek to lift his chin, Ben looks from her wrist to her eyes, "Mal. Take your hand off, now." She complies, but the smoky sweet scent still hovers over him, "I don't feel good right now. You understand?"

"No, Ben," she eyes him. "I don't."

He wets his lips, "Look. I want it."

"Want what?"

Ben looks off, "Are you really going to make me say it?" before he faces her. "Blood, Mal. I'm craving blood, and if we do anything right now, I will hurt you."

"Oh." There's silence as she eyes over him, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No, Mal," he irritably responds. "I don't want to talk about it."

She hesitates, "What can I do?"

"You can get out of here."

"Ben," she begins.

He stands from his seat, "I said, get out of here." but when she doesn't react, his eyes move down to her neck.

"Ben?"

"I want you," he whispers, but he can't get to her. The desk is in the way.

"Ben?" she asks again, and he reaches for her, placing one hand on her arm and the other behind her neck, pulling her forward and biting into her soft skin. There's that warm flow of blood, flushing his face as he drinks, and he hears the knocking, as Mal pushes things off the desk, trying to press herself away from him.

"Ben," he hears his mother call out, and he widens his eyes when the door opens. "It's time for dinner."

Ben swiftly turns back to Mal, and there she is in one piece. He continues to stare at her, and she takes a step back, "Ben's not feeling good."

Ben turns back to his mother, taking in her frown as she draws near him. She places a hand to his cheek, and Mal watches carefully. "You do feel warm." She lets go of him and smiles, "How about you rest, and I'll go get you some dinner?"

"I'm not hungry," he lies.

"You can have ice cream after to help cool you off," she negotiates.

He narrows his eyes, "I said no." as their scents set his teeth on edge. "Now, can you get the fuck out of my room?"

His mother gasps, "I'm just trying to help."

"Well, I'm tired of your help," Ben yells. "And I'm tired of you two just being here, so go." He breathes, "Please." and Mal can see the shimmering in his eyes.

"I'm not leaving you here when you're like this," she assets.

"Belle," Mal loudly interrupts. "I can help him."

They share a look, and after the brief silence, Belle takes a breath, "Alright." before giving Ben a final look and heading back out of the office.

The tears leave Ben's eyes, and Mal asks, "Are you okay?"

"No," he makes a face. "I'm not okay. I'm losing my mind, I'm hungry as hell, and now she hates me."

"If you're hungry, then why didn't you want dinner?"

"Because," Ben enunciates. "I already had half a pizza, part of two pastas, and five cheese sticks. Whatever feeling I'm feeling, it's not hungriness."

"No," Mal glances down before meeting his hazel green eyes. "It's a very specific hunger, something a pizza isn't going to help." She moves around the desk to wipe the tears from his face, and she feels the warmness. "You need to cool down."

Ben's mouth gapes, as his teeth tense, "Mal."

She notices some duct tape and pulls off a strip, "Shh." and when his mouth shuts, she places the tape over it and moves a hand to his cheek. "It's okay." She hears him release a breath before maneuvering him over to the pull-out bed. He lays down, and she hovers over him. He feels her cold lips on his neck, and he shivers as the scent becomes greater. He moves his head more into her neck, taking in the smell, before she feels the smooth tape move along her neck. She can hear the slight removal of it. He's trying to escape, but of course he is. He can't help himself. It should be expected. All she can do is hope she cools him down enough before he does, and then they can discuss his other problem; however, it's only a few minutes later that she hears the pained noise and leans up, removing her hands from under his shirt and noticing his eyes tearing up, before he finally pulls the duct tape from his mouth. "Ben?"

"It hurts," he whimpers. "It really hurts."

Mal hears his stomach rumble loud and slow, as though it were a dying animal, and her eyes widen, "That's…"

"It's like knots or stabs or something," Ben grunts.

"It's cramps," she realizes. "You have stomach cramps." She notices him staring at her, his mouth hung open, "Ben?" before he eyes down her arm and grabs her wrist. "Hey," Mal warns as she tugs it back, and once she's freed, he meets her eyes; however, they're not the Ben she knows. The dilated pupils and black ring make the eyes appear almost black, predatory. "It's going to be okay." She stands up, "I'll be back." before she hurries out the door.

* * *

By the time Mal makes it to the dining room, she's nearly out of breath, "Carlos." He looks at her, and she nods him over.

"Where's Ben?" Belle questions.

"Fine," Mal immediately answers. "He's doing fine."

"What?" Carlos's eyebrows furrow. "Did you put him in a coma or something?"

"No, I did not put him in a coma," Mal stresses. "I just need your advice."

"My advice?" he disbelieves.

"Yes. Your advice," she hisses. "Now, come on."

Carlos stands from the chair, but Mal doesn't say anything even after they start down the stairs. "Are you sure you didn't give him hypothermia?" Mal swiftly turns to him, and he sees her eyes flicker. "Whoa."

"How do you feel about knives?"

"Um," Carlos hesitates. "Not in the heart?"

Mal looks off for a split second before facing him, "I mean, things that feel like knives. Or— you've had sex. Being bit, is that something you're okay with?"

He hesitates, "Jay never bit me."

"Of course, he didn't," she lets out a breath.

"Mal," Carlos gives a look. "What's this about?"

She huffs, moving a hand over her hair, "Ben. He's really hurting, and I don't know what else to do."

"Oh," he realizes.

"He really needs someone," she informs.

Carlos looks up at her, "I won't get mauled, will I?"

Mal nervously smiles, "Maybe try the wrist and not the neck right now." before she places a hand on his shoulder and guides him to the office.

When they enter, Ben sits up and awes at them, watching as she nudges Carlos and he steps forward. "Mal," he looks from him to her. "What is this?"

She takes a moment, "I brought you dinner."

He glances at Carlos before shaking his head hard, "Uh, uh. No way."

"Ben," Mal begins.

"No." His eyes widen, "This isn't happening." before Carlos sits on the other end of the bed and Ben looks at him. "You smell like sugar."

"Um," Carlos thinks. "Thank you."

Ben forces his eyes from him, "Mal. I don't want to do this."

"I know," she frowns, "but I also know you don't have a choice." He shakes his head again, as he folds his hands tight. "Ben. No one has to know. This can stay between us."

He looks back up, "But him—"

"He doesn't mind," Mal looks over. "Do you, Carlos?"

Ben turns to him, and he excuses, "I have a high pain tolerance."

It takes him a moment, "So, this won't hurt you?"

Carlos makes a face, "Well, we'll just have to see about that." Ben continues to stare at him, and Carlos asks, "Mal. Can you give us some privacy?"

She slowly nods, "Yeah. I can do that." and she keeps an eye on them, until the last moment when the door closes.

* * *

**Posted**: 05/10/2019

**Megan** First off, I listened to the song... I like a lot of Taylor's stuff. Actually, coincidently, I was just having Chad talk about her; however, I really don't like happy things or happy people (not that I don't like people being happy, but there's just some people who have never had any problems in their life and the types of things they obsess over or worry about can just be annoying). So, in short, this song just wasn't for me. I simply don't have the self-esteem for it. As far as the new descendants movie goes, I remember being excited when I first heard about it. Now, I just hope it compares to the first two. Disney doesn't like covering deep issues, and it's hard for them to make decent trilogies because of it (in my opinion). The first movie or two will tend to cover decent issues or allegories for those issues at least (Lilo and Stich is an entire movie about immigration), but it never gets deeper than that because they're afraid of directness and all that. So, I am more excited about where my stories are heading than the new movie, but I will be watching the new descendants movie and I sincerely hope it does the first two movies justice. If I think it's good enough and so long as it still fits in, I'll even make it cannon to this fanfiction series. That does, however, depend on how well it would blend into this series. If they do a time jump where Ben and Mal are married in twenty years with all their problems solved, then obviously I'm not going to be able to incorporate that. I intend for everyone to always have problems, just as life intends for all of us. There are no happy endings, just decent living conditions... Actually, knowing me, the series wouldn't end happy. We can always hope it will, but just saying, anyone looking for a happy ending should just focus on the nice parts. This is the story of their lives, as life is... And I'm tired.


	25. I'm Ben

**I'm Ben **

**(Wednesday-Thursday Night, June 3****rd****)**

Ben eyes the floor, "Did Mal just tell you or—"

"No," Carlos answers. "You're picky about meat. It wasn't hard to figure out."

"I don't know why I'm like this," he whispers. "My parents try to talk to me, but my father doesn't drink blood… Not anymore, at least. I'm not normal, even from their view. How am I to tell them? I can't even tell myself."

Carlos hesitates, "Maybe they already know." and when Ben turns to him, he sees the tears on his face. "I think, um, that my mother knew things about me before I did, and… maybe your parents are trying to talk to you, because they know what you're going through. Even if they don't do it themselves."

There's a sudden stab, and Ben hunches over, "They leave me in this pain?" He shakily breathes, "If they know, why don't they help?" Carlos glances down, mouth open without words. His friends think his mother was horrible to him, but at least he can say she helped him through this, or, in the least, she tried. Ben's parents haven't even tried. They're just all talk. "You know," Ben holds his arms over his stomach, "I always had this pain, but…" More tears fall to his face, "I don't remember it ever being this bad."

Carlos scoots over, "It's okay." and he holds one arm over Ben's back as he places his other wrist in front of him. "I'm here. You can stop the pain."

Ben looks down at the wrist, "I— I don't know how."

It takes him a moment, "I think you do."

Ben eyes the small area, "Maybe if I use my front teeth."

"Whatever you're comfortable with," Carlos quietly comments.

He lets out a breath, "Nothing's comfortable about this." before he shakes his head. "I can't do this. Why are we doing this?"

"We're doing it, because you need it," Carlos calmly answers.

"I don't need it," Ben denies. "I don't need it. You can go."

He looks over him, "I'm not going anywhere." and Ben cries even further. "Why are you so upset?"

"Because," he breathes. "I don't want to do this, and I hate that this thing keeps trying to get me to do it."

"What thing?"

"The— The… thing," Ben answers. "And you're all taking its side, but I'm Ben." He faces him, "I'm Ben. You should be hearing me."

"Ben," Carlos hesitates. "I'm confused. You're in pain. Don't you want help?"

"What I want," he sternly states, "is this thing out of me. Whatever this thing is that's hungry for blood, telling me to hurt people, and wanting more and more, I want it out."

"Ben," Carlos softly counters, "this thing is a part of who you are."

"No," he asserts. "I'm Ben. Me. Not this thing."

"Okay," Carlos's eyes widen. "You're Ben."

"Yes." He nods, "I'm Ben." as he slowly looks away.

"So," Carlos comments. "What now?"

Ben frowns, "I don't know."

He watches him grip onto his stomach, "How about I hug you?"

"No," Ben shakes his head. "It thinks it can hurt you if you do that."

"I'm not afraid of it."

Ben looks back at him, "I am."

"And you know what?" Carlos thinks. "That's okay." He moves forward, wrapping his other arm around him, "It's okay." He waits for it, and just as he'd expected, there's a pinch in his neck as he feels a wetness fill the area. It doesn't hurt as much as he'd expected, but he does notice himself grow calmer as the time passes. It's the blood loss. It must be.

After Ben finally releases himself, Carlos watches him lay down on the bed and covers the bite with his hand. He hears Ben mutter something in French, drifting to sleep, and Carlos stands to his feet. He nearly falls, using an arm to balance himself, but he's able to get to the office door. He opens the door, trudges up the stairs, and his sight flickers as he forces himself to make it to the door. He knocks, the blue haired girl opens it, and then it all goes dark.

* * *

When Carlos opens his eyes, he hears her say, "He's waking up."

"About time." He turns and sees Mal with crossed arms. "What part of not letting him near your neck did you not understand?"

"Mal," Evie furiously whispers. "Don't you want to know if he's okay first?"

"Right," she sits down across from Evie, before she pretends to smile. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he whispers. "I think so."

"Great." Her high pitch suddenly lowers as she frowns, "So, what part of the plan, exactly, involved you nearly dying?"

Carlos tries to sit up, "He wasn't eating. I just thought… I knew he would if..."

"Okay," Mal puts up a hand. "Just tell us what happened."

"I don't know," he places a hand to his head.

Evie turns to her, "Maybe we should let him sleep this off."

"You mean, like Ben's sleeping this off?" Mal disbelieves. "We need an alibi, E. What are we supposed to tell Ben's parents if we don't even know what happened?"

"I don't think they saw me," he whispers.

"No," Mal counters, "but Ben's covered in blood. If his parents see him like that—"

"If he sees him like that," Carlos interrupts, "he's going to think something happened."

"His father would probably get mad," Evie thinks.

"No," Carlos takes a breath. "Ben. If he sees himself, he's going to think something happened. You can't leave him like that."

"Something did happen," Mal counters.

"He didn't want to do it," Carlos quietly asserts. "I made him do it. It's my fault."

"You don't need to take credit," Mal frowns. "Ben's the one who did it."

"But he didn't want to," he says louder.

Mal moves closer, "Look."

"No," Carlos sits up more. "You listen. Ben was ranting about how him needing blood wasn't him, that it was like a thing living inside him." He thinks, "Like a parasite."

Mal and Evie share a look, before Mal excuses, "He's probably just talking about his eating issues. It does feel different from you, doesn't it, E?"

"It does," she frowns in confirmation.

"This was different," Carlos strains. "He was a mess. You should've seen it."

"He was a mess, because he was starving himself," Evie informs. "And he spends so much time alone. The voice must have been driving him crazy."

"He said he wanted it out," Carlos shouts. "He said he wanted the thing out of him." Mal turns to Evie, and he continues, "I'm telling you, something's really wrong with him."

"M," Evie unsurely says. "Eating disorders are supposed to help you. I mean, they pretend to be there for you. Whatever Ben's experiencing, it's not that."

"Then what is it?" she disbelieves, and she notices Evie eye down. "Eves," she stresses.

Evie faces her, "There's two parts here. Ben binges on food, but if he's refusing to have blood…" She eyes between Carlos and Mal, "Maybe there is something more. There's a part of Ben that wants the blood, but a larger part of him doesn't. He's binging and restricting, because he doesn't like the idea of needing blood."

"And he wants the thing that needs the blood out of him," Carlos reminds them.

Mal shuts her eyes and places a hand over them, before Evie takes her other hand, "Mal?"

"It doesn't matter if he doesn't know he's a beast hybrid or not," she shakes, and when she lets the hand fall, they see the tears. "He's going to kill himself, anyway."

"We don't know that," Evie hurries.

"Don't we?" Mal widens her eyes at her. "The problem isn't him knowing what he is. The problem's just that he's this way in the first place, and he doesn't get why."

"You really think he's going to kill himself?" Carlos worries.

"He's already doing it," Mal nearly yells. "Don't you see? His body tells him he needs these things, and he's been fighting it every step of the way."

"But, M," Evie tries to reason. "That doesn't mean—"

"He can't wake up alone," Mal's eyes shift, before she stands and strides to the door. "Give Carlos one of my sweaters."

After Mal shuts the door behind her, he questions, "Why a sweater?"

Evie points near the bandage on his neck, and he pulls at his t-shirt, noticing the dark stain on the black surface, "Oh."

* * *

When Ben feels the damp cloth on his mouth, his eyes open, "Mal?" She shushes him, but he can't help but notice the wet stream of tear marks on her face. "What's wrong?"

She painfully smiles, "Nothing." but her voice is soft and sweet, nothing like the assertive grit he's used to.

He feels the damp cloth again, and he grips her wrist to get a view of the red stained washcloth. His expression falls, as he looks from it to her, "What did I do?"

"Nothing," she whispers, and when she looks down at her wrist, he lets go of it. "Something's wrong. I did something, didn't I?"

Mal turns the cloth to the dry end, "No. You didn't." before she reaches for his lips. "Carlos just wanted to help you, remember?"

His eyes shift, and his mouth widens, "I…" He meets her jade green eyes, "Is he okay?"

"Yeah," she shakes her head. "He's fine."

Ben places a hand to her face, and she shuts her eyes for a moment, "Then why are you so sad?"

She takes his hand into hers, "I don't want to lose you."

"Why would you lose me?" She sobs, and he lowers her head to see her, "Hey."

She faces him, "Carlos told me what you said, that you don't think this thing for blood is you, that it's just something inside of you."

His eyes shift, "I said that?"

After a moment, she continues, "Carlos, he said it sounded like a parasite. Do you remember what a parasite is?"

"Um," Ben tries to recall.

"It's a small, living thing that takes a person's body so that it can live," Mal rundowns. "Now, I know that you don't have a parasite, but do you really feel like your need for blood isn't a part of you?"

"It feels wrong," he lets her know. "When I… It is like it's not me."

"Then let's pretend it's a parasite." Mal makes sure, "But you know it's not?"

Ben frowns, "I know."

"Okay," Mal breathes. "Now, pretending that it's one, this parasite needs blood. It's in you, so it tells you to get it for it." She pauses, "You understand?" Ben nods, and she continues, "Now, if you don't feed this parasite, it will eat you." Her eyes widen, "You will die."

He thinks, "I don't want to die."

"So, you will make sure you get enough meat and blood," Mal's eyebrows raise, "so that you won't die."

Ben nods, "Yeah." but there's this sinking feeling, and he so wishes he didn't need to.

"Just one more thing," Mal tightens her hold on him. "The parasite isn't real, so there's no way for you to take it out." She shakes her head, "You can't cut it out. You can't burn it out. You can't poison it out. If you do that, you will die." Her voice shakes, "And I don't want to lose you. I really don't."

Ben runs his hands through her curly, brown hair, "I will never leave you." and Mal moves forward to kiss him.

Carlos looks over at Ben, "Aren't you going to eat?"

He awkwardly smiles at him, "I'm not hungry."

Carlos narrows his eyes, "So, how about you focus less on solving your hunger and more on stopping it from happening in the first place."

"Honey," his mother informs, "it isn't healthy to wait until you're starved to eat."

Ben moves the spoon around the beef stew, eyeing over the sandwich and mozzarella stick sides, before he meets his mother's brown eyes, "I'm not hungry."

"Ben." Mal furiously whispers, "Would you quit it?"

"What?" he turns to her. "I haven't felt this full in forever."

"You're welcome," Carlos thanks himself.

"Welcome?" Ben's mother inquires.

He sighs, "I may have ate his stuff. He's still mad at me."

"I'd be less mad," Carlos points out, "if you actually ate so that you won't need my stuff in two days."

"Yeah," Mal sides. "Carlos won't have enough snacks that soon."

"Ben," his mother laughs, "why don't you pay for the snacks."

"Well, I will." Ben excuses, "Um. He's just mad, because last time I gave him money for the store, when I came back, I left him with almost nothing."

"Honey," she faces him.

"Yes?"

His mother partly smiles, "You're a horrible liar." and when Ben cowers, his father grumbles. He eyes up at him. His father knows exactly what he had done.

"Alright," Ben breathes, before he wets his lips. "Carlos had a snack, and I stole it." He turns to him, "I'm going to pay you back."

He takes a moment, "You can pay me in chocolate."

"More sugar?" Ben gives a look of disgust.

"Hey," Carlos points out, "beggars can't be choosers. You're paying me in chocolate."

Ben frowns, "Okay."

"And I want you to eat," he adds on.

Mal places a hand on Ben's arm, smiling, "I'd like you too, too."

Ben lets out a big breath, "Okay." before he takes a mozzarella stick and dips it into the beef stew.


	26. The Hunt

**The Hunt **

**(Friday Afternoon, June 5****th****)**

After Ben messes the same part up again, he presses all his fingers down onto the piano and leans his forehead on the music rack. "You're going to make a fool of yourself tomorrow."

Ben's mouth gapes, as he looks at him, "Father."

"What have you been doing all week?" his eyebrows furrow. "Making out with that fairy?" No. He was eating. He literally ate the entire week. Ben lowers his eyes. He's wasted so much time. "Well?" his father shouts, and Ben's attention is brought back to him. "What did you do this whole time?" Ben's mouth opens, but he fails to answer. His father strides forward, and Ben stands from the bench. "Is this what you want, to humiliate your mother and me?"

"No," Ben whispers.

"Then why haven't you been practicing?" his father asserts.

When he gets close to the piano, Ben backs around to the other side, "I have been."

"I never see you," his father follows him. "Wherever you were, you weren't here, and now you're making a mockery of this family."

"I was here," Ben insists.

"Don't lie to me," his father yells, and Ben finds himself backed against the wall. "You weren't in your room, in the office, or out back. So, where were you?"

Ben faces him, "You want to know where I was?" before bares his teeth. "I was hunting. I would wake up, walk through the woods, and when I failed to catch anything, I went to the park to think about ripping all their throats out and drinking them dry."

His father bangs him against the wall, "You feral kid. Is that why the police were here the other week, because you were hunting people?"

Ben narrows his eyes, "If only you knew." but they shut when his father's grip on him increases.

"And that blond boy," his father continues. "You hunted him, didn't you?"

Carlos. Ben smirks, "What if I did?" and his father tosses him into the dining room; however, Ben's able to keep to his feet.

"What's your plan, here?" his father accuses. "Are you trying to get me to cancel your birthday party, that if you're off the rails, I will cancel it and you won't have to embarrass yourself in front of everybody?"

"No," Ben evenly states. "I drank from Carlos, because I was hungry and he was there."

His father shakes his head, "What do you expect me to do with this?"

"Simmer over it," Ben raises an eyebrow. "After all, it's not like you're going to tell Mother, are you? I inherited this from you. You don't want her to think you're still the beast."

"Or," his father shouts, "you can fix those scratches that boy put on the floor."

"Scratches?" Ben quietly questions.

"Those," his father points at the chair skid marks.

"But those are nothing," Ben nearly laughs; however, before he knows it, his father grabs him by the neck and puts his face to the floor.

"Does that look like nothing?" he grits his teeth.

Ben catches his breath, as he examines the scratch that's the same length as his eye, "No." He sighs, "It's doesn't."

His father lets go of him, "Then you will do well to fix it."

He exasperates, "And how am I supposed to do that? And finish practicing?"

His father offers a stern look, "How about you skip the hunt today? I'm sure you can find enough time to go to the store and get through your piece at least once, then." He walks off towards the hallway, muttering, "Stupid kid." before he notices the girl and shakes his head as he walks past.

Mal steps into the dining room and notices him sitting on the floor, "Ben?"

His jaw drops in fear, "Mal?"

She steps forward, "Are you okay?"

He eyes down, "How much did you hear?"

Mal's quiet for a moment, "I don't speak French."

"Oh," he almost smiles.

She holds up her phone and offers a sad look, before he sees the translator and meets her green eyes, "I never hurt anyone. You need to know that."

"I know," she reassures.

"It's just," he glances down. "The hunger is easier if… if I think about eating."

Mal takes his hand, "Ben. It's fine. I know it's hard for you."

"What's hard," he looks from their hands to her, "is this." The tears intrude his eyes, "I'm not even hungry right now, but I feel like if I eat, it will make everything better." He moves a hand over her curly hair, "I want to hold you, take in your smell, and…"

"Drink," Mal finishes.

"I just feel like it will make everything better," he admits again.

"Ben," Mal places her hand on his shoulder, and she pauses as his eyes move to it. "Your father just hurt you. You're sad and you're hurt, but drinking from me isn't going to fix it."

His eyes shift, "I feel like it would."

"Ben," Mal hesitates, "you know I cut, but I don't feel like doing that right now."

"And I don't want you to," he hurries. "It's just…" He shakes his head, "I'm tired. I'm really just tired."

Mal hugs him, "It's okay." but then he sucks on her neck. She hesitates, feeling the teeth test her skin, and she shuts her eyes, "Ben. If you can't control yourself, I'm going to have to let go of you." The teeth let go; however, the sucking continues, and she feels a hand move under her shirt to her hip. Mal places hers over it and whispers in his ear, "How about we go somewhere more private?"

* * *

He's finally done it. It took six hours, but he's finally made it through each section without a mistake. Now, all he has to do is play the entire piece without failing. Ben starts again, but then someone laughs, "Still doing dead music?"

Ben's mouth gapes, as he turns to him, "Chad?" His grin is the most foolish thing he's seen. "I told you not to come."

"Well, clearly that witch took you hostage," he jokes, before he walks over to him and leans on the piano's black surface, "so I'm here to rescue you."

Ben narrows his eyes, but he can't help but smile, "How charming."

"So," Chad continues, "I'm taking you from your enslavement." He takes Ben's hand, and when he pulls, Ben looks off as he stands to his feet. "And you can thank me with dinner and a movie."

"Chad," Ben begins.

"Or," Chad places one hand on his shoulder, before he whispers into his ear, "we could start with dessert. I'll let you win again."

"God," Ben lets out a breath. How is this happening? Chad's scent and the thought of his blood is actually getting him hard. He places his hands on Chad's arms and moves him back, "We can't do this again."

Chad huffs, letting go of Ben and pushing back his curly bangs, "I mean, yeah. I know that." He gives a look, "But why, again?"

"Mal didn't like it," he informs.

"You told Mal?" Chad disbelieves.

"And she knows about the blood thing too," Ben explains. "She can accept that I lost myself in that moment, but she's not going to forgive me if I do it all over again." Chad keeps his eyes from him, and Ben takes a breath, "Say something."

Chad shakes his head, stepping back, "There's nothing to say. I just saw you were all lonely and depressed, and I thought we could have a fun time." He raises his eyebrows, "And now you're turning something as simple as a movie down?"

He shuts his eyes, "Chad."

"No," he interrupts. "It's fine. I'll just have to go to Paradise to have some fun, and while I'm having so much sex with so many girls— they do threesomes, you know— you will be here, twiddling your thumbs and stressing over some dead guy."

After he marches off, Ben steps forward, "Chad. Wait." He stops but doesn't turn around. "I…" He wets his lips, "I might like a movie."

"Well, maybe I don't," Chad manages, before he hurries down the stairs and heads out the door. How could Ben do this? Mal. That's how. Chad takes the prescription from his pocket and slides out a few pills. He lost God, he lost Audrey, and now he's lost Ben. This is the only thing he has left.


	27. Blank Space

**Blank Space **

**(Saturday Afternoon, June 6****th****)**

"Hey. Audrey," Chad calls out, and when she turns, he catches up with her. "Hey."

She cautiously eyes him, "Hey."

"So, I need you to choreograph something for me."

She hesitates, "And what would that be?"

"Oh, nothing," Chad brushes it off. "Just the song you, me, and Ben will be doing later."

"I'm doing what with you and Ben?" her mouth gapes.

"Singing," he grins. "And dancing, after you figure that part out."

"And what are we singing?" she entertains. He takes a piece of paper from his pocket and hands it to her, before she gives him a look, "Taylor Swift? Really?"

"What?" He excuses, "I like her stuff."

"You want me— a soprano— and you and Ben as tenors to sing an alto song?"

He takes a moment, "I think most of her stuff is tenor, actually."

She shoves the paper into his chest, "And what about me. I'll never be able to do that."

"Just sing an octave higher," he solves.

She huffs, "Like that fixes anything."

When she turns around and starts to walk off, he pleads, "Audrey. Just Wait."

She turns around and crosses her arms, "Why should I?"

"Because," he emphasizes. "I'm trying to get you back. Okay? I thought this could bring us closer together."

Audrey frowns, "Have you quit yet?" and when Chad fails to answer, she turns back around. "Then there's nothing to talk about."

He moves in front of her, "Audrey. You have to do this."

"Why?" she asserts.

Chad frowns as he shakes his head, "You and Ben are everything to me. You're the most important people in my life, but things have been so rocky with you two… I don't know where I stand anymore." He meets her dark brown eyes, "I need you in my life."

Audrey frowns, "You're defining yourself by the people in your life. You can't do that."

"I can't help it," Chad frustrates. "I'm one of those people who spends all their time around people. There's nothing more in my life."

"I'm an extrovert too," Audrey reminds him. "And I used to define myself by whoever I was dating, but now I'm single. And I plan on it staying that way for a while."

"Then be single," Chad's eyes widen. "But Audrey." He places his hands on her arms, "I really need you. Please."

Audrey shakes her head and shuts her eyes, "What's the song, again?"

Chad grins, "Blank Space. It's going to be so much fun. I get to go on about all my mistakes and how much people hate me, and then you and Ben get to tell each other how you warned each other."

She strains a smile, "And what does Ben think?"

* * *

"No," Ben lifts a hand. "I'm not doing this."

"Come on," Chad smiles. "Audrey already agreed. All we need is you."

"I already had to learn a piano piece in a week," he exasperates, "and now you want me to practice a song five hours before it?"

"I told you he wouldn't do it." Audrey slowly says, "So, now I—"

"You're still doing it," Chad interrupts, before he steps towards Ben and places his hands on his shoulders. "Come on. I know you want to do it."

He looks away from him, "I don't know." Chad eyes Ben over and ruffles his hair, before Ben swats his arms away. "Hey!" Chad chuckles, and he attempts to fix it, "What was that for?"

"You're so uptight," he grins. "What? You need someone to help you get that stick out of your ass?"

"Te foutre," Ben's eyebrows furrow, and when Chad laughs, he shakes his head. "Are you high right now?"

"Yes." Chad wraps an arm around Ben's shoulder, as they turn to Audrey, "And you guys get to tell everyone about it when you sing this song with me."

Ben shares a look with Audrey, "Okay."

She sighs, "So, who's singing what again?" and Chad offers the paper to her.

"Right," she shakes her head. "So, when Chad opens up the song, maybe we walk up to him and he puts his arms over our shoulders." She drops the paper to her side and gives Chad a look, "You realize this is a love song, right? Are you sure you want Ben in this?"

Chad frowns, "Ben might be my friend, but I'm trying to get him back too." before he glances from the paper in her hands to her. "It's a metaphor."

When Audrey gives the same look to Ben, he looks off, notices Chad's hand is still on his shoulder, and swipes it off, "Yeah. It's called a metaphor."

"You don't even know what a metaphor is right now," Audrey tests.

Chad mutters something in Ben's ear, and Ben smiles, "Of course, I do. It's an English term for, uh, comparing things."

She crosses her arms, "That's so not your definition."

"Defa what?"

"God," she exasperates.

Ben's eyes widen, "Oh. I remember, now." She expresses a sad look, and he awkwardly smiles, "What?"

"Are you okay?" she quietly questions.

His smile widens, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"When was the last time you saw your doctor?" Chad inspects. Ben lifts a shoulder. "Not since you got that sling off, huh."

Ben's mouth gapes, "I just can't deal with them right now, okay?"

"You're king," Audrey hisses. "If something's wrong—"

"Nothing's wrong," Ben growls, before he covers it with a cough and reaches for his throat. "I just…" His voice. It keeps doing this. He needs to stay calm. Maybe if he can stay calm, he can gain better control of it.

"Ben?" Audrey cautiously comments.

He lifts a hand, "I'm fine. Okay? Can we just do this? We only have four hours."

There's a long moment, before Audrey looks back at the sheet, "Okay. Uh, when my lines come up, I can tug at his tie." She moves to Chad's right, "Come on, people!" as she puts his arm over her shoulders, temporarily places the paper into her left hand, and demonstrates the tie tug. "As so." She looks at the paper again, "Ben. When your line comes up, put your hand over the back of his shoulder so that when he sings again, he can slide his hand to your right shoulder and you two can move apart at that arm's length."

"What?" Ben's brows furrow.

Audrey rolls her eyes, "Like this." before she gets out of position to guide his movements.

"Oh," he frowns. "Okay."

"So," she continues. "When Chad says the 'friends' line, he can put his other hand on your shoulder. Audrey hums, "How about you do one of those handshakes guys do after that?"

"That guys do?" Ben questions.

"Like this." Chad places his thumb in between Ben's thumb and forefinger, before he squeezes, moves it down once, and then lifts into an explosion."

"Ooh," Audrey grins. "That's perfect, but make sure to line it up with when you sing how it ends."

"That's so weird," Ben complains. "We never do that."

"You don't," Chad points out, "but I do."

"And this is a pretty loose interpretation of the song anyway," Audrey informs, as she scans the lyrics. "It's not like Chad would ever call himself your queen in real life, either."

Ben partly smiles at him, "You say that line to me?"

"You are the real king here," he excuses.

When Ben doesn't speak, Audrey continues, "And then I take Chad away from you." She demonstrates. "Chad does his lines, you ask him if the high was worth the pain, and then when that all ends, I tell him I could show him incredible things."

"You missed the steps for that whole thing," Chad reminds her.

She waves it off, "It's the chorus. We'll do that later."

"But the lines switch for you two," he frowns.

"I see that." She moves on, "I think at my lines here, I'll wrap my arms around you, you tell me pretty lies, push me away, and then turn to Ben to tell him he's your king." She stares at the paper, "I give you two a look when I say I'll pretend to be your perfect girl for a month." She half laughs, "Not that far from the truth." before she thinks. "Good job giving Ben the line about the rose garden of thorns."

"I thought it was pretty good," Chad compliments himself.

"Yeah," she skips to the next part. "I say 'oh my God', Ben points at me, asking who I am, I tell him he's going to keep going back to you, and you tell him it's because you're a nightmare daydream."

"What?" Ben's eyebrows furrow.

"Ugh," Audrey breathes. "How are we going to do this when Ben still doesn't even know English?"

"He doesn't need to know the words," Chad's expression falters. "He just needs to sing them… and dance."

"He doesn't dance in public," Audrey places hand to her waist.

"He did it for Mal."

"For Mal," she stresses. "His girlfriend. Why would he do it for you?"

"Because," Chad immediately emphasizes, before he halts and his mouth hangs open.

After a long moment, Audrey shakes her head, "You really need to go to church."

"I know," Chad's eyes lower, before he faces her. "I was actually going to ask you if I could start going with you again. And do the charity things and stuff."

"Why does he need to go to church?" Ben mumbles.

Audrey shuts her eyes and places a hand to her head, "Maybe this isn't a good idea."

"No," Chad exclaims, and Audrey meets his bluish grey eyes. "I'm trying to get you two back. We can't just break apart like this."

"Face it, Chad," she counters. "You're just forcing something here."

"I love you." His eyes shift from her to Ben and then the floor, before he faces her again, "You're the only girl I actually cared about."

"You cared more about your hair than me," she doubts.

"Do you know how hard relationships are for me?" He frowns, "I was able to pay attention to you for longer than a week— longer than a month. You're the one, Audrey. You have to believe me. You're the only girl I'll ever be able to have a life with."

"God," Audrey stresses. "You listen to this music too much."

"But it's true," he insists.

"I'm sure you will find someone."

"No," he nearly yells. "You're the one I made it work with. You're the only one."

"You shouldn't have to make it work," she shouts.

"Audrey. Please."

"I told you," she asserts. "I'm trying to figure out who I am without a boyfriend."

"So, we can't be friends?" he disbelieves.

Audrey stares at him, "I'm helping you with this song, aren't I?" before she notices him tear up. "But if you really want to be friends, I need you to come to church with me."

"Thank you," he sniffles.

"Yeah. Whatever," Audrey moves on.

"You don't make me go to church," Ben points out.

"God hasn't shown himself to you, yet," she informs. "Chad's already felt God's presence. It's up to him to return to Him."

"I used to pray," Ben counters.

"Yeah," Audrey accepts, "but you weren't a true Christian then."

His eyes shift, "Maybe we should do the, uh, crogophy."

"Choreography," she sternly states.

"Yeah. That."

Audrey sighs, "Then let's get down to it."

* * *

"Okay." Audrey announces, "Let's take it from the top."

"Take what from where?" Ben tiredly states.

She takes a deep breath, "Let's start from the beginning."

They get into position, and Chad and Audrey speak their lines as they go through the moves; however, Ben merely mumbles his. There's the tart scent, and it's dizzying. At some point he notices Chad put his arm around Audrey's waist, Audrey place her hand on Chad's shoulder, and Chad tell her that he's insane. Ben remembers his line, and Audrey gives him a look as she counters it; however, his mind goes blank in the next verse.

Audrey stops, "Ben. Your line."

When he fails to speak, Chad comments, "If you're not into this—"

"No," Ben softly says. "What's my, uh, line?"

"We're young and reckless," Audrey reminds him.

"Right," Ben recalls, before he says the line as he places a hand on Chad's shoulder, Audrey says her line to him, and he retorts with hers. Chad smiles at Ben as he says his line, but Ben falters at his. Chad frowns, and he blinks, "But I got a… a…"

"Ben?" Chad concerns, before he feels Ben's weight press down on him, as he keeps himself from falling. "Ben? Are you okay?"

He shakes his head, "Yeah. Just…"

"Is it a fever?" Chad asks.

Ben's eyes widen. This is his way out. "Yes," he nods. "That's it. It's a fever."

Chad eyes him suspiciously, "No, it's not."

Audrey watches him carefully, "When was the last time you ate?"

Ben shakes his head, "Why?"

"Because," Audrey asserts. "You looked like you were going to faint."

Ben laughs it off, "That almost never happens."

"Almost never," Chad notices.

"Just tell me," She narrows her eyes. "When was the last time you ate?"

Ben takes a minute to find a seat at the end of the bed, before he glances from Chad to Audrey, "You mean, last time or last time meaningful."

"Meaningful."

He awkwardly smiles as he remembers, "Three days?"

"You didn't eat for three days?" Chad's eyebrows furrow.

"I eat today," Ben defends, before he mutters, "You know…" He folds his hands tight, "It just didn't do a lot."

"Is that why your English is so bad right now?" Audrey accuses.

Ben gives her a look, "How would I know?"

"It's your body," she stresses.

"Right." Ben wets his lips before meeting her dark brown eyes, "I'm fine."

"You're not fine!"

"You just said I would know," Ben points out.

"No one who's fine says they're fine," Audrey shouts. "They say they're okay."

"Okay, then." Ben takes a moment, "I'm okay."

Her eyes widen as she puts a hand up in the air and slowly states, "I'm getting a latte." before she points at him. "You want your green tea lemonade?" Ben eyes down as he shakes his head, and she sighs, "Of course, you don't." before heading for the door.

After she leaves, Chad walks over to sit next to Ben, "So." He turns to him, "Now, that we're speaking French and all, is there anything else you can tell me about all this?"

"About what?" Ben frowns.

"Starving yourself," he elaborates. "Is that a thing now?"

"It's always been a thing," Ben mutters. "I just didn't realize I was doing it until now." Chad nods, and he continues, "I really am fine, though… This thing that's been missing from my diet, I've never really had it before, and it's only been three days. I'm okay."

"The third day of starvation is the hardest," Chad informs. "It's around then that your body switches it's fuel source from sugar to fats."

"But I mostly just eat meat in the first place," Ben counters.

"Yeah," Chad accepts. "But if this thing you had three days ago was a sugar, then your body would have been using that sugar, and that's why you're crashing now."

Ben looks off in annoyance. If anyone is going to have high blood sugar, it's going to be Carlos. "So, what do I do?"

"Well," Chad thinks, "you can either go back to your high fat diet—" He looks over him, "I'm guessing you do intermediate fasting, because I know you eat pasta too but it looks like you don't have a lot of stored fat either."

"Intermediate fasting?" Ben questions.

"It's when you only eat once or twice a day," Chad explains. "You know, get all your calories in within about eight hours. Because you'd get a lot of fat with your meat, you're already training your body to use fats. But then again, because you eat pasta, you would still need enough time to get through those simple sugars." He smiles, "You probably crash a lot."

"My other option?" Ben inquires.

"Right," Chad continues. "You could start taking in more complex sugars. That would be like fruit or whole grains. The body can feed off of those things longer."

He'd been full for over a day, though. Does that make blood a complex carb, and he just crashed so suddenly because Carlos just had too much sugar in his? Ben places a hand to his head, "I'm confused."

"One of those food doctors would probably be able to help you more," Chad suggests. "Everyone's different. How acidic your body is and all that stuff changes what you're supposed to eat and how much of it."

"A food doctor?" Ben asks. "You mean, a nutritionist?"

Chad takes a moment, "I don't know the name in French."

"Right," he remarks.

"So," Chad comments, "what are you going to do?"

Ben takes a deep breath, and the taste of the scent overpowers him, "I think we should stop talking."

When he stands from the bed and faces him, Chad unsurely asks, "What are you doing?" before Ben moves his knees onto it and sits in his lap.

He places his hands onto his shoulders, "We're alone, now."

"Ben," Chad frowns.

"You were all for this last night," he reminds him.

"Yeah." Chad falters, "But you weren't."

"Well," Ben eyes over him. "I am, now."

When he leans in, Chad feels the grinding and shuts his eyes, "You, horny bastard. Why can't you just go to a worker?"

"It's too public."

He feels him suck on his neck, "Paradise is discrete. I wouldn't go if it wasn't."

"Well." Ben whispers, "I'm pretty sure they also have a strict policy on what kinds of liquids can be exchanged." before he playfully nips his neck. "Do you have it?"

The knife? Yeah, he has it. He lightly pushes Ben back and faces him, "I can't do this."

"Do what?" Ben frowns.

"This," Chad says louder. "I need my relationships to be consistent. You can't just tell me we're never doing this again one night, only to try to jump my bones the next."

He awkwardly smiles, "I thought we were just a couple friends having a little fun."

"And if all last time was, was a one-night stand, then you're doing it wrong," Chad points out, and Ben looks away. "You're either the kind of person who can mess around with a friend or you're not. You can't have it both ways."

Ben faces him, "What if I didn't want to then but I do now?"

"I'm bad with rejection," Chad sternly counters. "Really bad. I need to know what the boundaries are with you, and it doesn't matter if you're into this or not. I just need you to be honest with me." He takes a breath and continues more softly, "Because, I don't have it in me to connect with someone so intensely and then be cut off. You're either with me or you're not."

Ben wets his lips, "All I know is, I want you now."

"That's not good enough," Chad declines. "A one-night stand I can deal with. What I can't deal with is not knowing if you will be there for me in this way." He thinks, "I can't be there for you when you want me, if you don't want to be there for me when I need you."

"Chad," Ben shakes his head.

"It's a simple question," Chad insists. "Are we friends or are we friends who mess around and can connect on a deeper level?"

Ben takes a minute, "We can be friends who mess around. I just need you now."

"You don't want me," he frowns.

"What?" Ben disbelieves. "Of course, I want you."

"You want my blood," Chad nearly shouts, and Ben silences. "And look, I get it. Your girlfriend isn't taking care of you. But that doesn't mean you can just use me like this. If we're doing this, I need to know I mean more to you than just my blood."

"You do," Ben meets his eyes.

"Then prove it." Chad nods once, "Have your way with me one time without the blood, a hand job or blow me, and then next time I'll do what you want."

He huffs, "Chad. Don't be ridiculous."

His frown deepens, "I'm trying to put my life back together. I'm going to get Audrey back, I'm going to earn God's forgiveness, and you and I are going to just be friends."

"What?" Ben exasperates. "Just because I won't give you a blow job?"

"No." Chad calmly explains, "Because, I like being friends with you, and I don't want you to see me as some whore to help you with your little fetish and not as an actual friend."

"Chad," Ben begins.

"You're not changing my mind on this," he interrupts. "My life is a mess. It's not even a life anymore. I need to make it one, but that's not going to happen if you keep using me."

"I'm not trying to use you," Ben whispers, before he runs a thumb over his neck. "I just really want you right now."

"You should try Carlos," Chad offers. "He doesn't mind getting used by a guy."

Ben eyes down, "I think he thinks I've already used him too much."

"Did you pay him?" he lifts an eyebrow.

His eyes shift, "No."

"So, what?" Chad inquires. "You just forced him to have sex with you?"

"Well, I mean," he breathes. "It wasn't really like that. It's just… the blood, Mal didn't think Carlos would mind."

"So, the dragon handed one of her slaves over to her boyfriend."

Ben uncomfortably laughs, "Carlos isn't a slave."

"You're sure about that?" his eyes widen. "Because, last I checked, Carlos belonged to Mal's brother or whoever he is before they 'broke up'."

"You really think Carlos is a slave?" Ben gives a look.

"All I know is Jay was controlling as hell. It didn't matter how many people he was with, but the second I paid Carlos to do things for me, he was furious."

"Wait," he holds up a hand, and Chad grunts as Ben moves position. "You've done things with guys before… before me?"

"Can you get off me?" Chad makes a face, "Any longer like this and I'll lose it."

Ben stands up, "How many guys have you been with?"

"Just you and Carlos." He faces him, "But it's not just against the law. It's against God's law, so I'm going to have to stop."

Ben shakes his head, "Then why do it in the first place?"

"Because he was there." Chad eyes him over once, "Sex is sex. I'm not picky about who I have it with."

"You were just at that sex club last night," Ben points out. "Isn't that against God's law too somehow?"

Chad takes a moment, "I didn't go."

Ben gives a look, "What do you mean, you didn't go?"

He stares into his hazel green eyes, "I took my script, until I was so high that I passed out." Ben frowns, and Chad shakes his head, "I didn't go anywhere, Ben. I came here for you— for your birthday— not to hook up with some girl."

"So, you took the pills," he slowly begins.

"Because you weren't there," Chad finishes. "I was a mess, and I needed someone. And you weren't there. You're my best friend, and you couldn't be there for me."

Ben opens his mouth, "Chad."

"I mean, how hard could it have been," he tears up, "just to spend some time with me so that I could forget how fucked up my life is?"

"If you want to talk about it—"

"I don't want to talk about it." He stands up, "I wanted you. Okay? I wanted to know that there was something in my life that I could still count on."

"You can still count on me," Ben promises, before Chad shakes his head. "I'm sorry. I didn't know you needed me. You seemed fine."

"Everyone thinks I'm fine," Chad counters. "I'm a star player, rich and good-looking, and good with girls." He clenches his hands onto Ben's shirt, "But you know me, the real me. You should have been able to see past all that."

"You're right," Ben acknowledges. "I should have."

"It's already been a month of summer, and I didn't do anything," Chad cries, before he wipes his face with his sleeve. "Nothing. It's just going so fast, and pretty soon…"

"Pretty soon, what?" Ben questions.

"Nothing," Chad sniffles.

"No," Ben counters. "I want to know."

Chad shakes his head, "I just wish I could forget. I wish…"

He takes a moment, "It's going to be okay."

Chad's quiet for a moment, "You're the only thing left in my life that means anything."

"What about Audrey?" Ben reminds him.

He halfheartedly laughs, "Like some song and dance is going to get me get her back."

"What about God?"

His eyes shift, "You don't even believe in God."

"You do."

Chad shakes his head, "God can see my heart for what it is. He knows I'm not pure."

Ben thinks, "If you believe original sin, then no one's really pure."

"I guess," he whispers.

"So," Ben solves, "you're going to go to church with Audrey, you're going to be embraced by God, and Audrey is going to realize you two aren't over yet."

Chad sniffles, "And you?"

Ben wets his lips, "Well… I'm your friend, and hopefully next time you need me, I won't be so focused on my own problems that I can't see it."

He hugs him, "You're the best."

Ben places a hand over his curls and lightly pulls them, "It's going to be okay." before he breathes in his scent. He's so close. He could have him right now, but he can't. Chad's such a mess, and if he uses him like that, then there's no telling what he'd do. No. He needs to get Mal. If there's something Chad needs to forget, then Mal can help him with that.

* * *

"Ben," Chad hopes when the door opens.

"No," Mal frowns, before she walks into the room and Chad looks away. "Ben said you might need some help forgetting something."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Chad's voice strengthens.

She shuts the door, "It's just you and me. Whatever it is, you can tell me." Chad shakes his head, and Mal steps forward.

"I can't help you forget if I don't know what you're trying to forget."

He faces her, "Well, there's nothing to forget, okay?"

"Ben's worried about you," she lets him know, and his eyes lower. "You know, there's things I'd like to forget." Chad faces her, and she tilts her head, "It just sucks that I can't use my powers on myself."

Chad's eyes shift, "What happened to you?"

Mal thinks for a moment, "It doesn't matter." before she walks up to him. "My point is, this is your chance. I'm not going to be asking you this again."

Chad rubs his hands together, "I can't forget." before he eyes the floor. "If I forget, he… I'll get hurt again."

"He who?" He shakes his head, and Mal reaches for him, "Chad."

"Don't touch me!" his eyes widen as he pulls back.

"Okay." Mal puts her hands up, "No touching." He looks down again, and Mal slowly lowers her hands. "Just give me a name, Chad. I'll make him wish he never hurt anyone."

"You're on parole," he points out.

"So?"

"So?" Chad disbelieves, before he furrows his brows at her. "Do you know how mad Ben would be at me if I got you in trouble?"

"He can't just get away with this," Mal's voice raises.

"Get away with what?" Chad challenges, and Mal's expression falters.

She notices the fear, as his face softens, and she says, "That thing that happened to me… I was raped on the Isle, and he got away with it." She meets his eyes, "What he did will haunt you. You can't just let him get away with it."

"Well, then, it's a good thing I wasn't raped," Chad nonchalantly counters.

"I'm back," Mal hears the singing and swiftly twist towards the door, only to see Audrey with a cardboard tray in her hands. "Oh," she eyes over her. "It's you." She smiles, "Get Ben, would you? We have a number to do."

Mal looks back at Chad, and he mumbles, "Just go." She hesitates, looking over him, before he watches her walk to the door.

After Mal leaves, Audrey walks up to Chad and hands him a drink, "I got you lemon water with ice, just the way you like."

"Thank you," Chad whispers, before he takes the cold drink.

* * *

\- Okay. So, I'm going to need some comments on this post, because a lot happened and it would be sad if no one had any thoughts on it. Also, just so you know, I gave hints in the last fic for what was going on with Chad, so it's not impossible to guess. Do any of you think you know what happened or who did it to him? I'd love to see your predictions. Chad's plot doesn't get anywhere near resolved in this fic, so if you want to lay out your guesses, now might be the best time to do it... If you'd rather talk about Ben and his melt down, that's fine too. Just like when he was talking about the clock in the last fic, I really love writing him as crazy (for lack of a better term). He's so much fun to write like that, although this time was less intentional and more happenstance. It was still funny for me to read, though.


	28. Everything You Ever Wanted

**Everything You Ever Wanted **

**(Saturday Afternoon, June 6****th****)**

Ben takes the blue present from his mother and notices, "This feels like a book." before he glances at the tag. "Audrey." He undoes the bow, tearing it, and his mouth slowly opens, "It's a Bible."

"To counter the book you gave me last year," she grins.

He half laughs, "Uh, Audrey. I've actually read the Bible already, so…"

"This one has footnotes," she points at it. "It explains the science behind the miracles."

He smiles, "I'll have to read it." before he notices the language and falters. "Um." He lifts a shoulder, "It might take me a while."

Audrey looks from it to him, frowning in observation, "Right." She brightens, "It's fine. Take your time."

After a long silence, he points to a gold bag, "What about that one?"

"That one's from me," his mother hands it to him, and when he takes the tissue paper out, his eyes widen as he immediately shuts it.

He gives her a look, "Mother!"

"What is it?" Mal glances at it.

Ben stares at her, unable to speak, and Chad laughs, "I bet it's condoms."

"You know," Ben's mother replies, "that would be an excellent idea."

Ben interrupts, "Next present." and Chad tosses him a small, red box.

He smiles as he tears it open, "A…"

"Mixtape?" Audrey disbelieves, before she gives Chad a look. "You made him a mixtape? Really?"

"Shut up," Chad's eyebrows furrow. "You know, my first idea was taking his virgin ass to Paradise, but then I remembered he belongs to a scary dragon with wicked powers."

"Aww." Evie nudges Mal, "He complemented you." and Mal smirks.

Chad's father looks at him, "How could you go to Paradise? You're only fifteen."

"I told you," Chad frowns at him.

"You told us you've had sex," he counters. "You never said it was there."

"Because, it wasn't," Chad irritably answers.

"Wait," Audrey holds up a hand. "Since when aren't you a virgin?"

Chad takes a moment, "We were still together, actually."

Her mouth gapes, "And you want me back? How do you even expect me to forgive you?"

"Sweetheart," Audrey's grandmother reminds her, and Audrey silences.

"Anyway," Chad continues, before he nods towards Ben. "That CD is way better, because it's in French and I'm the one singing it." Ben smiles but doesn't say anything. "Come on. Aren't you going to tell me how charming I am?"

Ben eyes over the large crowd, before facing Chad, "No?"

"Come on." He grins, "I know you want to."

Ben feels the guests' eyes stare more intensely, "No one will get the joke, Chad."

"It's my name," he laughs. "What's not to get?"

Ben continues to frown at him, before he leans forward and says, "How charming of you." in French.

"Thank you."

He grins back and shakes his head, "Who's next?"

"Why don't you open this one," his mother places a hand on the large rectangular present sitting on the coffee table. "Your father got it for you."

Ben frowns, looking from the large present to his father, "Okay." before he moves from the chair and kneels in front of it. He rips open the blue wrapping paper and takes in the picture of the large TV.

"I thought you could put it in the office, watch some news while you work," he explains.

Ben looks over and stares at him, until his mother reminds him, "Honey, aren't you going to thank him?"

He glances from her to his father, mumbling, "Thank you."

* * *

"You should have been more thankful for your gift," King Charming frowns.

"Pardon?" Ben faces him.

"Your father," he reminds him. "He put a lot of thought into that gift, not to mention the price. What was it, three thousand dollars?"

Ben's eyes shift, "Looked like it."

After a moment Charming comments, "Look. I know you don't believe in God, but He would tell you to be grateful for what you have."

"Grateful," Ben whispers. How could he be grateful after everything his father's done. "I just didn't understand why he would give me that. It didn't feel real."

"He told you why he gave it to you," Charming counters.

"I know, but…" Ben scratches the back of his head, and he stops when he feels the bump. He eyes down, gliding a finger over the long line where the stiches had been.

"You know it's real now. You should thank him properly."

Ben's arm drops to his side, "I'm not doing that."

"It doesn't matter if the time to thank him has already passed," Charming opinionates. "You need to give genuine thanks in all circumstances."

"Says the same God that says I need to respect thy mother and father," Ben disbelieves. "And I'm not, so I can't."

He pauses, "Do you believe you shouldn't respect them?"

"I believe," Ben sternly replies, "that if I have to respect them, they should respect me."

"Ben," King Charming looks off for a second before meeting his eyes. "You have good parents. Why can't you just respect them and be thankful for all that they offer?"

He opens his mouth, finding it hard to find the words, before he says, "My parents aren't perfect. Not everything they do is good."

"No one's perfect." Charming replies, "What more do you expect?" Ben eyes off. What more does he expect? Nothing. It's what he does not expect. "Honesty. Tell me, have they really done anything so bad as to deserve your disrespect?"

"It's more my father," Ben admits. "He's just so controlling and…" The images flash through his mind, and he can't sort through them. There's nothing to remember, nothing to tell.

"He's a parent," Charming reasons, "and you're royal. How the world sees us affects how much power we have, and without power the country would fall apart. We need to be controlling to some degree." Ben fails to speak, and he shakes his head, "Really, I'm just disappointed in you. Your father is such a good man, he's always given you everything you've ever wanted, and you treat him like this?"

"Everything I've ever wanted," Ben repeats, a sinking feeling weighing him down. He feels a hand on his shoulder, and swiftly turns.

"Hey," Chad smiles. "Ready to practice?"

"I, uh," Ben thinks. "Yeah."

"Hold on," King Charming commands, and they face him. He looks at Chad, "We need to finish the conversation."

"What conversation?" Chad shrugs off.

"We assumed you were talking about Audrey," his father informs. "If it wasn't her, then who did you have sex with?" Chad looks over at where Carlos and Evie are chatting, and he follows his eyes, "I see."

Chad turns back to him, "Really?"

"Yes," he answers, "and I've got to say I expected more from you. God would have expected more from you."

Chad frowns, "I know."

"Were you safe?"

"What?" his eyebrows furrow.

"Well, she's not going to get pregnant," his father makes sure.

"Evie?" Chad catches on and shakes his head. "Of course, not."

"Good." His father glances at the islanders for a moment before facing him, "Do you care about her?"

"Dad." Chad lets out a breath, "It really didn't mean anything."

"You know, God tells us that sex can be harmful outside of a bonded relationship," his father reminds him. "The least we expect is that you're dating the girl you're doing these things with. It's only right."

"You don't need to worry about it." Chad quiets, "I don't think I'm going to have sex or anything anymore… at least for a while."

"Really?" Ben questions.

Chad meets his hazel green eyes, "Sex is better with someone you care about." before he looks him up-and-down. "What's the point if I can't make a real connection with anyone?"

"You will one day," his father reassures him.

Chad takes a minute, "Yeah." before he nods Ben over to the hallway. "Coming?"

"Uh, yes," Ben nods, and they walk to his room; however, at the door Ben stops. "Hey." Chad turns, and he hesitates, "You didn't have sex with Evie."

"No," Chad admits.

"You said you've done things with Carlos," he insinuates.

"I fucked him," he blatantly states. "A lot." Ben doesn't speak, and Chad nods to the ballroom, "Go on. Tell them, turn me in."

"Chad," Ben disbelieves. "I'm not turning you in."

"It's what I deserve," he asserts. "I should care about who I have sex with, not just…" He faces him, "It's sick, and God hates me now. I just know it."

"Fuck God," Ben nearly yells. "You're not sick for acting on the hormones he gave you." Chad quiets, and Ben calms, "Carlos was there. If it really didn't mean anything, then there's no reason to make a big deal out of it." He thinks, "And I don't care if prostitution is illegal or that homosexual activity is. You don't deserve getting punished for that."

"Then legalize it," Chad counters.

"What?" Ben questions. "Prostitution?"

"No," he asserts. "Homosexual activity. People can't prove I was paying him for it. I can just tell them it was just for writing my English final or something, but if anyone finds out what we did, we're screwed."

"No one needs to find out," Ben solves.

"Somebody already has," Chad stresses. "And they're hanging it over me. I know I'm going to get turned in eventually, so either make it legal or just do it yourself. Please."

Ben stares at him, "Chad. I'm biased. My girlfriend has been involved in homosexual behavior, and people know it. I don't have the power to change this law alone."

"Then bring the council together," he insists. "Have them vote."

Ben takes a moment, "Chad. You know over half of the council is religious. I don't see them changing their beliefs, when they likely don't know they know anyone who's done it."

Chad frowns, "God knows my father wouldn't."

"Chad," Ben hesitates, and he faces him. "Who's holding this over you?"

He shakes his head, "Someone." as he eyes the floor. "I thought I could trust him. I was just dying to tell someone. Anyone. I was just so confused and alone and…"

"You could have told me," Ben quietly comments.

"Are you kidding?" Chad gapes at him, "You're the last person I could've told."

Ben sighs, "So, what happened?"

"I was testing to see how much I could tell him," Chad explains. "I just gave a little information, asked a few questions to see where he stood, but now… I know I never should have." He tears up, "I can't get out of this."

"Who is he?" he asks again.

Chad meets Ben's eyes, more scared than ever, "A teacher."

"A teacher?" his eyes widen, but Chad doesn't respond. "Who is he?" Chad shakes his head. "Come on, Chad. Tell me. I can help you."

"How about you help yourself first," he lashes out, and Ben falters when he sees the tears fall to his cheeks. "You know what it's like to have a powerful man's grip on you. Tell me, what's your escape plan?"

"Chad." Ben awkwardly smiles, "That's different."

"No," he insists. "It isn't. And if you can't even help yourself, how the fuck are you supposed to help me?"

"It's not too late," Ben reinforces. "All he has is your word. The school cameras don't even have audio. If you stop doing stuff with guys, then no one can catch you."

"That's your big plan?" Chad makes a face. "Get me to stop acting on my hormones? What happened to I shouldn't feel ashamed?"

"You said you were going to stop that kind of thing, anyway," Ben points out. "If you really plan to, then that should solve your problem. If he says anything after, then we would have a good case for defamation of character. If he tries to hurt you like that, we can stop him."

"And the morphine?" Chad counters. "He knows about that too. I can't just stop it."

Ben wets his lips, "You would have a better chance recovering from your addiction if you got professional help for it."

"So, your solution to me not getting blackmailed for my script is to make it public myself," he sums up.

"Not public," Ben quickly replies. "If I can be in-and-out of hospitals my entire life without people finding out about it, then your parents can at least get you a supervised detox without anyone knowing."

"And you know what?" Chad's eyebrows furrow, "Your illness isn't what's going to kill you. It's going to be your father, and then I will have two powerful men hanging over me, just because you want the crown to go to me."

Ben's frown deepens, "I thought you wanted to be king."

"No," Chad exclaims. "How many times do I need to tell you, you idiot? I don't want the crown. I want you." He places his hands on his arms, "You're the only person in the world that makes me feel real. If you die, I die."

Chad stares into his eyes, hoping for him to understand, and Ben removes Chad's hands from him, "I think the pills are really starting to mess with you."

"It's always the damn drugs," he complains. "Why can't I just have feelings?"

"You can," Ben unsurely responds. "I just think the drugs are making it harder for you to sort through them."

"We're teenagers," Chad reminds him. "We can't sort through our emotions in the first place. It's not the stupid morphine."

"You've gone through a range of emotions just in the last hour," Ben voices. "If I didn't know better, I would say you're bipolar."

"Because I have problems," Chad counters.

"I have problems too." Ben extends an arm, "You don't see me doing this."

"Fuck you," Chad narrows his eyes, and Ben falters. "My script helps me. Whenever I'm scared, sad, or anxious, it's there to calm me. Not you, because you're never there."

Ben wets his lips, "I apologized for that."

"Well, it doesn't help." Chad complains, "My life is still crap."

He takes a moment, "I told you how to fix it, but I can't help you if you don't want help."

"I don't need help," Chad steps forward.

They stare at each other, and when the door opens, Audrey's eyes widen, "Whoa." They're only inches apart, and after they face her, she lifts a hand, "I didn't mean to interrupt." She eyes between them, "Whatever this is, but we still need to go over the song again."

"Right," Ben accepts, before she makes room for him to pass and Chad follows suit.

"Okay, then," she smiles as she shuts the door, but then she notices Chad rummaging through his bag. "Uh. What are you doing?"

Ben watches Chad take out the orange bottle, "Didn't you just have that?"

"I'm only having one," he quickly replies, as he slides one out into his hand.

"You're sure you don't need help?" Ben doubts, but Chad merely shakes his head in annoyance as he goes shut himself up in the bathroom.

"How bad is it?" Audrey questions, and Ben turns to her.

He takes a breath, "Bad. He has a lot of stuff going on right now."

She looks at the bathroom door, "And why, exactly, does he need to take it in there?"

Ben mulls it over for a minute, "He's probably trying to get it to last longer by putting it up his nose."

"Snorting it?" Audrey gasps.

"Is that the word?"

She shakes her head, "I shouldn't have given up on him so fast."

"It's not your fault," Ben informs. "It's not like I was there too."

She furrows her brows at him, "Either."

"Pardon?"

"Either, not too," Audrey asserts.

Ben looks off, "Whatever. If I didn't have to say English at all after tonight, it would not be soon…"

"Enough," she finishes, and they turn to the door when Chad returns to them.

* * *

\- **Posted**: 05/27/2019

\- **Megan** I don't know if you still need help, but I have ideas. How about one night they have a picnic at the ruins (with red wine if they can have it), and they are surrounded by the type of lanterns they had in Tangled. Now, you don't have to do this next part, but the ruins are probably from a temple, right? The idea is that the temple belongs to a fertility goddess (I think the Greek gods of Hercules are mentioned in the novels), and once Mal agrees to his proposal, the goddess bonds them and Mal becomes pregnant... Just an idea. By the way, it's perfectly fine that you don't know what's up with Chad. Once his entire problem is revealed, it's supposed to be like some big revelation. The hints are there for Ben to feel guilty about later, though, so I just thought some of you may have figured it out. It's probably better from a writing standpoint if you haven't, though.


	29. The Thing About Parties

**The Thing About Parties **

**(Saturday Night, June 6****th****)**

"So, remember," Audrey reminds them, "at the end of the song Chad says he has a blank space for us, he looks at me and I walk off, and then he looks at you and you walk off."

"Right," Ben confirms, and Audrey smiles.

"You can do this." She slowly frowns, "You ate, right?"

Ben's mouth gapes as he eyes off, and Chad answers, "No. He didn't."

Ben faces her, "Dinner is right now. All we need to do is go out there."

"You could have at least had one of your protein bars or beef things before going on stage," Audrey complains.

"Audrey," Ben widens his eyes. "I'm going to be fine."

She sighs, placing a hand to her head, "I still can't believe we're doing this." before she gives Chad a look. "You know how much trouble your little 'metaphor' could get us in?"

"Don't worry about it," Chad dismisses. "I do stuff like this all the time."

* * *

"Yeah. He's not gay at all," Mal comments, after Chad sings to Ben that he's his queen.

"And no one bats an eye," Evie notices, before she checks her nails.

"What about Ben?" Carlos asks.

"What about him?" Mal dismisses.

"Well, his lines aren't exactly innocent either," he answers.

Evie laughs, "Ben would do anything for Chad. All Chad has to do is smile, tease him a little, and get him to follow him."

"And he doesn't even realize it," Mal adds on, crossing her arms when Audrey and Ben take their turns circling Chad.

"He didn't tell you about this," Carlos assumes.

"Tell me?" Mal's eyebrows scrunch. "Of course, not. I'm only his girlfriend. Why would he tell me?"

"Okay, then."

Ben sings how he has a blank space for Chad, and Mal straightens up, "The hell?"

"I would not want to be Ben right now," Evie whispers.

"Yep," Carlos confirms.

Mal watches as Ben caresses Chad's neck, "Did you see that?"

"No," he opts out.

"Yeah," Evie devises. "I didn't see that either."

Chad wraps his arms over Audrey and Ben's shoulders, turns to Audrey, and she picks up his hand to drop his arm, rolling her eyes as she leaves. Chad looks at Ben, and he playfully shoves Chad before turning; however, before he can leave, Chad takes Ben's arm, pulls him towards him, and places his other hand on the side of Ben's head before kissing him. His heart pounds. He's done it. There's no way Ben could excuse this. He has to know, now.

When their lips part, Ben eyes over him as the tart scent fills his senses. It's right there. All he has to do now is take it. Ben meets Chad's greyish blue eyes, and he pushes him away. He can't do that to him, especially right now in front of all these people. He turns around, and after Chad watches him walk off, he meets the audience's gaze, places one hand behind his back, the other flat on his stomach, and moves one foot forward to bow.

"Okay." Carlos admits, "I saw that."

"You think they planned that?" Mal unsurely inquires.

"No idea," Evie slowly remarks.

Mal watches Ben make his way around the crowd, back over to the stage before sitting down at the piano, "And he's moving on like it never happened."

"They aren't," Carlos notices, as Chad follows Aziz into the hallway.

"They talk?" Mal surprises.

"I mean, they are royal," Evie points out.

"Right," Mal accepts, before she returns her attention to the stage.

Meanwhile, in the hall Aziz faces Chad, "What in the Prophet's name was that?"

"What was what?" Chad frowns.

"What was what?" Aziz disbelieves, gesturing down the hall. "You just kissed Ben. In front of everyone."

"So," Chad shrugs it off. "It was part of the act."

"There's no way Ben went for that."

"What?" Chad bypasses. "You never heard of improv."

"You couldn't improv something a little less illegal?" his mouth gapes. "Do you have any idea what you've just done?"

He smirks, "They'll have to make it legal now."

"If you think they're going to legalize something just because one of us got caught breaking the law, you're sorely mistaken." Aziz's eyes widen, "Think about it. Why would they face all that hate from their kingdoms, when it's so much easier just to tell us to behave?"

"Look." Chad places a hand on Aziz's shoulder, "I'm sorry if your kingdom is still stuck in the mud, but mine never chopped off people's hands for stealing." before he raises his eyebrows. "I think mine could stand a little change."

"I think you need to think about others," he counters, and Chad rolls his eyes. "If homosexuality is legalized, what's stopping murder from becoming legal?"

Chad takes his hand from his shoulder to point it at him, "You're more insane than I am."

"The laws of this country are heavily based on scripture," Aziz reminds him. "If homosexuals can suddenly show themselves in public, what's stopping people from murdering them all?"

"Uh." Chad points out, "How about the God damn law?"

"What God damn law?" Aziz deduces. "Once one of God's laws are tossed out the window, why should any of the others be any more respected?"

"Because God writes morality into our hearts," Chad immediately answers, "and all humans have the capability to deduct right from wrong whether they believe His word or not." He makes a face, "I mean, look at Ben."

Aziz takes a moment, "I'm just going to forget that you gave Ben for that example."

Chad takes a deep breath, "Trust me. Our parents aren't even going to turn this into anything. It's nothing I haven't done before."

He frowns, "You've kissed a guy in front of them before?"

"Well, no." Chad excuses, "But it can't be that different from singing about being in love with a guy, right? There's no way they're going to make a big deal out of this."

"Hey," Chad hears Audrey, and he notices her walking down the hall.

He turns towards her, "Hey."

She frowns, "I just thought that…" before she takes Chad's hands. "I want to help you." She notices Aziz, "Unless you want to help him. It's going to be a lot of work, and I'm honestly not sure I'll have the time to give him the attention he needs."

"Are you kidding?" Chad's mouth gapes. "Muslims are even more strict than Catholics. I'll take my chances with you."

Audrey takes a minute, "You're probably right. With your sin getting worse, we really don't need you being around guys all the time."

"Guys," Aziz repeats, before he offers Chad an unsure expression. "You're not really a homosexual?"

"I'm bi, actually," Chad clears up, "but—"

"But that's the first thing we need to fix," Audrey interrupts, and Chad frowns at her. "You're not bi. That's not even a real thing."

"Audrey," Chad's eyes lower.

"God doesn't make mistakes." She places her hands onto his shoulders, sadly smiling, "We were happy once, but then the demons invaded your mind. They're making you think these things, but with God's help we will cure you."

He meets her dark brown eyes, "And if I told you I only got with you so that you would break up with Ben, what would you say then?"

She eyes over him, "You had these thoughts back then?"

"I didn't know it," Chad mumbles, "but I only really started to like you after I got to know you."

Audrey nods, "Well, uh, the longer a sin has been happening, the harder it is to stop it." She smiles, "But with God, all things are possible."

"No," Aziz interrupts with disgust, and Audrey frowns at him. "You're interpreting it all wrong. God made us for this earth, and because of that we will be flawed." He glances at Chad before staring down Audrey, "Allah will not cure Chad, because homosexual behavior is linked to families with fertile women. It's not a flaw. It's by design that he has these thoughts."

"Homosexuality is a sin," Audrey hisses.

"Exactly." Aziz faces Chad, "With God all things are possible, but don't expect to be cured. All God can do is help you find fulfillment elsewhere." He meets his eyes, "I highly recommend abstinence. There is nothing more fulfilling than focusing on the most important things in your life and achieving those goals."

Chad hesitates, "Ben is the most important thing in my life."

Aziz glances down, "Then aim for a platonic romance. If Jesus really said to love thy neighbor, then I'm sure he couldn't condemn that." He turns to Audrey, "But you're not going to cure Chad of his sin by shaming him for it. We all sin, some worse than others, but it does not change the fact that we are merely another one of God's animals."

"We are not animals," she debates. "We were made in His image."

"And that's supposed to make us special somehow?" Aziz dismantles. "We're not divine. We were made for this earth, and therefor we have none of God's perfections." He gives Chad a look, "That is why God left us His laws and we must not mess with them." He sternly eyes him, "You understand me?"

"Yes," he whispers, and when Aziz strides away, Chad looks back at Audrey.

"I don't care what Aziz says," Audrey declares. "You can't possibly be happy clinging onto Ben like this."

He takes a moment, "I'm not."

She nods, "Okay." before she smiles. "Then we will find you someone else to obsess over, someone proper." He observes her expression before placing a hand to her hair, but she removes it with an unsure noise, "Someone who's not me."

"Sorry," he frowns. "I just don't see myself with anyone else."

"I'm not the one for you," she softly says, before she eyes down toward the dining room as the people begin to gather. "You need someone more like Ben, but a girl."

"I really don't want a relationship right now," he thinks.

"Okay." She smiles again, "We can focus on you for now, but if you really don't want a relationship right now, that includes Ben too."

Chad recalls Ben shoving him after the kiss, and he slowly nods, "Yeah. I can do that."

* * *

That's the thing about parties, Ben's reminded, as he examines the large amount of food in front of him and the dessert table behind his parents, set against the brick wall. He gulps as his stomach growls, and he gathers three types of meat and some potatoes onto his plate. "Ben," his mother laughs. "Slow down." Ben faces her, but when she continues the conversation with Rapunzel, he looks down at his plate. Over half of the food is gone, and for the life of him he can't recall when it'd disappeared. He stares at it. He'd binged, and he hadn't even realized it.

Ben stands from his seat and as soon as he knows it, he's staring into the bathroom mirror. There he is, that fake person he can't even recognize. All he sees is the things he's done and the monster underneath the king's skin, hiding like a wolf in a sheep's wool. He punches his reflection and then seethes, holding his hand in pain, and the tears intrude his eyes. Why can't he just be normal? How hard could it be to just eat frickin' normally? "Hey." Ben glances at Audrey and leans his palms down onto the countertop as he lowers his head. He stares into the sink, as Audrey steps towards him, "Did you… throw up?"

He sadly chuckles, "No." before wiping the falling tears away. "No." He shakes his head, "I don't do that."

"I had to ask," she explains.

He whispers, "I know." before he wets his lips, takes in a breath, and moves past her.

She follows him out the door, "Ben." and hurries in front of him. "Talk to me."

"There's nothing to talk about."

When he tries to move past her, she steps to the side and places her hands on his arms, "Your eating disorder. You can tell me about it."

Ben's eyes shift, "I told it was nothing, I was just making a big deal out of it."

"No," Audrey insists. "You weren't. Me. Chad. We can all see it."

"Would you just," Ben bares his teeth, as he grabs Audrey's wrists to take them from his arms; however, suddenly it overtakes him.

"Ben?" Audrey cautions.

"What's that smell?" He leans forward to sniff her, "You change your…"

"Perfume?" Audrey takes a step back, but he still grips her wrists. "No. I." He steps towards her, and she moves back again, "I forget to wear it."

"You smell so better without it," he slowly says, as she finds herself against the wall. He leans into her neck, "Almonds?"

"Almonds?" Audrey's eyebrows furrow, before the realization hits her. His hands move to her arm and hip, and when she feels him start to suck on her neck, she presses her hands against him. He doesn't budge, and when he tests his teeth she nervously laughs, "Okay, Ben. I get it. I need to stop having a handful of dark chocolate covered almonds for breakfast." She feels the warm breath on her skin and stares up at the ceiling. God. How is she supposed to get out of this?

"Ben!"

He steps away from Audrey and widens his eyes, as he watches his mother march towards them, "What are you doing?"

"I, uh…"

"I know Mal can be promiscuous," she half laughs, "but that does not give you the right to do the same to her."

"Right," Ben catches on, before he awkwardly smiles. "I'm sorry?"

"You have the weekend to tell Mal about this," she asserts. "If you don't, I will."

"But Mother," he hurries.

"No buts," she narrows her eyes. "I am very disappointed in you."

He wets his lips, lifting a hand, "I just…" before he eyes from Audrey to her. "I didn't mean to."

She takes a minute, "Go back to dinner. We'll discuss this later."

Ben eyes off in annoyance, before he moves past her a mutters in French, "Fuck we will."

She watches him eye the floor as he leaves, before she turns back to Audrey. She widens her eyes, "He came onto me."

Belle nods, folding her hands in front of her, "I thought it seemed like that." before eyeing over her. "Do we need to discuss this with your parents?"

"No," Audrey hurriedly denies. "I'm fine. Really."

She raises her eyebrows, "It's okay if you're not."

"I just want Ben to get some help." Audrey shakes her head, "I don't really know what that would be." before she meets her eyes. "But another lawsuit isn't going to do that."

"Alright," Belle nods. "Thank you for your candor. If you have any further concerns, you are free to tell me."

"He has," Audrey hesitates, "eating issues."

Belle frowns, "I know. We're working on it." before she looks back down the hall.

When Ben notices the brown shoes, he lifts his head and Doug smiles, "Hey."

"Hey," he mumbles.

"So," Doug slowly says, peeking back at Audrey. "How's the cravings?"

Ben narrows his eyes, "How do you think they are?"

Doug nods, eyeing the dinner table, before facing him, "If you want—"

"Don't," he interrupts.

"I couldn't get you a gift," he reminds him. "This is what I have."

Ben rubs his forehead, "Just don't." and he feels the tears sting his eyes when he faces him. "Don't ask me. You can't."

"Why?" Doug evenly responds.

"Because," Ben whispers, "if you ask again…" He shakes his head, "I'm not going to be able to say no this time."

"Good," he counters. "I don't want to force you."

He shakes his head harder, "I don't need it."

Doug takes a moment, "I don't care if it's just in your head or not." and he watches as the tears leave his eyes. "You need it on some level." He watches Ben wipe the tears away, "I bet it would at least help you keep yourself together, emotionally."

"Honey." Ben looks over at his mother, and she questions, "May I speak with you?"

"Really?" he unsurely responds.

She nods, "You were right. If we don't discuss this now, other things will cloud over it."

Ben turns back to Doug, "You were going to stay a day or two?"

"Well, uh." He adjusts his glasses, "That would make things easier."

Ben nods, "We'll talk later." and when Doug walks away, Ben turns to his mother.

She takes a minute, "What you were doing to Audrey…" Ben scans the hallway, as she asks, "Was it like a, uh, primal urge or—"

"That's enough." Ben glances down, shifting in his stance, before he faces her, "Audrey just… She smelled different, and it caught me off-guard." He thinks, "I was intrigued by it. That's it. I wasn't like— I wasn't trying to, um… you know."

"You made her uncomfortable," she lets him know.

"Yeah." Ben makes a noise, "I'm sorry."

She nods, "Well, there's nothing we can do now. Just do your best to not do that in the future, please."

Ben's mouth opens, before he manages, "Yeah. Okay."

She smiles, "Come on. Let's get you back to dinner." before she places a hand on his back and guides him to the dining room.

"And Ben just keeps getting better every year," Queen Ariel comments.

"He does, doesn't he?" Ben hears his father say, and he eyes over at him. He grins, "You know, he only had a couple weeks to practice?"

"That's unbelievable," King Eric shocks.

Ben's heart picks up speed, as his father unsurely remarks, "Ben can do anything he sets his mind to." and his face warms. "It doesn't surprise me at all that he was still so great."

"Ben?" Mal questions, and after he faces her, he abruptly stands and heads out of the room. There's this dark swirling in his chest, tears begging to break free, as he clutches onto the bathroom counter. His mind is blank, yet swarming. "Ben?"

He notices her hanging onto the doorframe, "This is my bathroom. Mine."

"I know," she thinks. "I just…" She eyes over him, "What's wrong?" and he shakes his head. "Ben. You can tell me."

He cries, "Why?"

"Why what?"

"You see him out there?" Ben manages. "Telling everyone how great I am?" His voice crackles, "Like he didn't say I sucked all week." He mutters, "Like always."

"You're upset, because your father complemented you," Mal realizes. He doesn't speak, and she steps forward, "Ben. I would have killed for my mother to complement me just once." She watches him sink to the floor and kneels beside him, "Ben. Why is this bothering you so much? Shouldn't you be happy that he finally recognized how good you are?"

"It's just so…" He eyes up, trying to find the word, before he heavily breathes, "Different." instead. "He never says those things to me. It's always just how fucked up and wrong I am." He half laughs, "And I ask why I am the bad guy, because everyone thinks he's such a great man… and I can't find it in me to love him."

Mal frowns, "You don't need to."

"They think I do," he whispers. "My father is just too good for me not to love, and after everything he did for me…" Ben shakes his head, "I want him dead."

"You don't mean that," Mal dismisses.

"Yes," he seethes at her. "I do." He shakily breathes, "I am so sick of this shit, Mal. I'm done with him. I want him gone."

She eyes down for a moment, "What about your mother?" and then he heaves into sobs. She wraps her arms around him, "It's okay." and after a minute his breathing slows. He's hot to the touch, and she holds her hand to his neck; however, then she feels him nip at her neck. "Ben." She moves him away, "You know how I feel about that."

"I want all of you," he inches closer.

Mal holds up a hand, "Ben." as she cautiously shakes her head. "No."

He clenches to his stomach as it growls, "Sorry." and he shakes his head. "You should go, get out before I hurt you."

She hesitates, "What about you?"

Ben eyes down, "I can do a cold bath."

"You're sure?"

"Just go," he softly roars, and he huffs at the pain as she gets up and leaves.


	30. Platonic Romance

**Platonic Romance **

**(Saturday Night, June 6****th****)**

When Ben and Chad enter the dining room, their laughs are stifled, as they suddenly frown at their parents sitting at the long table. "Pumpkin," Chad's mom invites, "Come here." His parents stand to move to the other side, and he sits down across from them.

"Honey," Ben's mother widens her eyes at him. "You too."

Ben steps towards the table, eyeing between them, before he sits down next to Chad, they exchange frowns, and King Charming comments, "We need to talk about that kiss."

"What about it?" Chad counters.

"Chad," Queen Ella sighs, "didn't we just talk about this with you a few months ago?"

"Uh, yeah." His eyebrows raise, as he glances at the table, "You told me breaking the law isn't something to joke about."

"You joked about enacting in homosexual activity with Ben," he reminds him, "and now you actually did it?"

Chad rolls his eyes, "It was part of the performance." as he tenses up.

"It's still illegal," his dad points out.

"I don't care," Ben interrupts, and when their parents face him, he glances at Chad and wets his lips. "I just mean, it's not like he's a stranger." He eyes between them, "We're friends, and guys do stupid stuff sometimes." He recalls, "You should see half of the things that happen in the locker room."

"Okay." Ben's mother uneasily responds, "Putting that aside, it is still illegal and could put you in some very real legal trouble."

"We were able to get everyone to agree to let us deal with this matter," Ben's father intrudes, "and they did agree to delete anything of you in that, uh, compromising position."

"Compromising position," Ben repeats. "You make it sound like they recorded us having sex or something."

"The law sees it like that," Chad whispers, and Ben frowns at him. He places a hand to his head, "It's illegal. We get it. Can we go watch our movie, now?"

"Speaking of which," Ben's father brings up, "we need to discuss your room situation."

"Father," Ben loudly replies. "Don't."

"You can't keep sleeping with him," he proclaims. "You did it during the school year, you did it at that hotel, and I know you're still doing it now. But I am telling you now," he taps his forefinger onto the table, "that stops now."

"It's just a bed," Ben disbelieves.

"Honey," his mother calmly responds, and his wide eyes meet her. "It would make things a lot easier if you just cooperated with us."

"Why?" Ben exclaims. "This is ridiculous."

"If all that kiss was, was part of the performance," his father sternly remarks, "then obeying us shouldn't be a problem."

Ben leans back in the chair, crossing his arms, "We're best friends. That's not a crime."

"But the kiss was," Queen Ella reminds him.

"Speaking of the kiss," Charming reexamines, eyeing between them, "whose idea was that?" Ben's posture softens, but neither of them speak. "Well?"

Chad frowns, "It was mine."

His dad concerns, "It was yours?"

"Yeah," he mumbles. "The entire song was my idea."

"And who gave you that idea?" his mom proposes.

His eyebrows furrow, "What are you talking about?"

"You don't expect us to believe you came up with that kiss alone," she asserts.

His jaw drops, "But I did."

"Chad," his dad cautiously replies, "I know how peer pressure can be a hard—"

"God," he places his hands to his face.

"You don't need to cover up someone else's crime," he continues.

"Conspiracy," Belle corrects.

"Conspiracy," Charming nods. "So, who was it?"

"One of those villain's kids?" Chad's mom inquires.

Chad shakes his head, whispering, "Why did I think this was a good idea?"

Ben hears the verge of tears in Chad's tone and turns to their parents, "It was my idea."

"Pardon?" his mother's eyebrows raise.

"It was your idea?" his father slowly points at him.

Ben wets his lips, "Yes." before he eyes over them. "I, uh, thought it would make Mal jealous. So…"

"So, you told Chad to kiss you in front of her?" King Charming questions.

"Yes," Ben nods.

"Well," Ella turns to her husband, "that would make sense."

"Hold on," Adam's voice raises. "Something isn't right here."

"You're right," Charming agrees, before he faces Ben. "You're king. You can't be breaking the law for your girlfriend."

"Understood," he evenly replies.

"Good," Chad's dad nods, before he checks his watch. "We should leave."

"What?" Chad gasps. "No!"

Belle raises her hand and slowly moves it down, instructing him to calm, before she turns to his parents, "It is getting late. Why don't you stay the night?"

"Yes," Chad leans forward.

His parents look at him before facing Ben's, as Charming questions, "Which room?"

Belle smiles, "I'll show you." before she stands and faces Chad. "You too."

* * *

"Are you okay?" Ben asks.

"Do I look like I'm okay?" Chad infuriates, hands clutching the edge of the bed. "It was my idea, and they acted like it was the worst thing anyone could come up with."

"Yeah," he softly agrees.

Chad faces him and lets out a breath, "You know, you didn't need to do that?"

"Do what?"

"Take the blame," Chad frowns.

Ben lifts a shoulder and awkwardly smiles, "The most my parents would do is just tell me to be careful." before he glances down. "I don't think they would care if I did that kind of thing so long as I wasn't caught."

"Really?" he unsurely replies.

Ben takes a moment, "They assumed that we… when we were at the hotel."

"They did?"

"Don't worry," he reassures. "I told them we didn't." He pauses, "My point is they cared more about how careless our meetup was, rather than what they thought we were doing."

"So, you didn't get in trouble?" Chad surprises.

"I get in trouble all the time," Ben's brows furrow. "I don't need to fuck a guy to do it." He mumbles, "I don't need to do anything, really." before he looks at Chad and eyes down to his neck. If he's going to get in trouble anyway, why not do something for it?

"Ben?" He meets his blue-grey eyes, and Chad asks, "You okay?"

Ben wets his lips, "I was just thinking." before he runs a thumb over his neck.

Chad takes his hand, "Ben." before letting out a breath. "We said we wouldn't."

"Who cares what they think?"

"I'm trying to be good with God," Chad stresses. "You need to respect that."

"I do," Ben emphasizes.

"No, you don't," Chad counters. "If you did, you wouldn't keep asking."

"Chad," Ben sighs, putting a hand to his head. "I'm sorry."

He huffs, "Yeah. Right."

"I have your pills," Ben informs.

Chad's mouth gapes, "You took them?"

"Don't worry. I'll give them back," Ben rationalizes, before he pushes Chad down onto the bed. "After I get to have you."

"What?" Chad tries to get up, but he's pinned. "No. I said no, Ben."

"You will say yes, if you want your script back," Ben counters.

Chad grits his teeth as he finds the strength to push him off, "No."

Ben lets out a breath, "Come on, Chad."

"No," he shouts, as he gets up from the bed. "You're just like him. You know that?"

"Chad," Ben tries to reason.

"No." Chad cries out, "I said no." and when the hand touches his shoulder, he gasps, his eyes wide open.

"Hey," his dad frowns. "Are you okay?"

Chad sits up and runs a hand over his head, feeling the sweat in his hair, "What time?"

"Early," his dad simply says. "I think you were having a nightmare."

Chad shakes his head, still catching his breath as his heart races, "I, uh." He furrows his eyebrows and pulls away from him, "Get off of me!"

He removes his hand from his shoulder, "Chad. What happened?"

"I need to talk to Ben," he mumbles.

"That can wait," he whispers. "You should sleep."

"Ben sleeps in the morning." He checks the time on his phone, "If I wait, we'll be gone before I can."

He watches him stand from the bed, "Chad." and he looks back at him. "Did… did something happen?"

"Like what?" he makes a face.

His dad hesitates, "Well, I mean, how you were so willing to go along with the kiss… If someone did something to you, that would stay in your mind." Chad eyes down. "You know, you can tell me anything."

Chad gives him a look, "Because, no straight person has ever been sexually abused." before he shakes his head. "I have to go talk to Ben."

When Ben opens the office door, he and Chad stare at each other, before Ben frowns, "I want to apologize."

"Don't bother." Chad moves past him, and Ben shuts the door. "It's not like you stole my script and used it as ransom for sex."

Ben faces him and slowly says, "Okay." He shakes his head and moves towards his desk, "I was just going over the low-income apartments project. Would you like to join me?" He doesn't speak, and when Ben notices his uneasy expression, he tilts his head, "Chad?"

Chad walks over to him, places his hands onto his shoulders, "Ben." as he meets his eyes. "I love you."

Ben chuckles, "Good one, Chad." and when he moves to eye over the documents, Chad looks up in annoyance and rolls his eyes. "Now, seriously. The building costs—"

"No," Chad yells.

He pauses, "No, what?"

Chad sadly laughs, "I can't take this anymore. Are you really just such an idiot or…" He falters, "Or do I bring it up so much that it just makes you uncomfortable?"

"Chad," Ben frowns, "what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about," his voice raises, before it crackles into a whisper, "how I can tell you I love you so many times, straight to your face, and it just doesn't register with you."

"You're a charismatic guy," Ben unsurely responds. "Don't you say that to everyone?"

"No, Ben," Chad exasperates. "I don't tell other people that I love them or that their hair is a mess or that their girlfriends are jerks. That's just you."

"Chad," Ben awkwardly smiles, "what are you saying?"

He looks off and shakes his head, "Nothing." before he widens his eyes at him. "Doesn't matter how I say it. You can't just get it… because I'm messed up and you're not."

When he turns around, Ben walks forward, "Hey. Can't you just try to talk to me?"

Chad twists around, "No, I can't just try." before he cuts the air with his hands. "I'm done with this. Okay. I'm just… done. That's it."

After he exits the office, he hears Ben shout, "Chad." but Ben does not run out after him. A part of him wishes he would. It would show he cares, but that's the problem here: he doesn't care about him, at least not like that. He's just there to satisfy his sick fetish, which Ben persisted on multiple times just since their boundaries had been made. There are no boundaries. There are no lines. There is just Ben and whatever Ben wants him to do.

When Chad enters the bedroom, his father asks, "How did it go?" His expression drops. "Are you crying?"

Chad sniffles as he wipes the tears away with his sleeve, "No."

He looks over him, "What's wrong?" and Chad eyes up towards the ceiling, trying to prevent more tears. "Hey," he whispers.

"I want to go home," Chad manages.

"You mean, now?" his father questions. Chad nods, and he nods in return, "Alright. I'll go get your mother." There's the footsteps, the door, and then he's gone. Chad grabs his bag from the floor, places it on the bed, and rummages through it. He feels the plastic, pulls the pill bottle out, and shakes his head at the emptiness. How is he supposed to get rid of the pain now? This. He sits down on the bed's edge. This is the worst pain he's ever felt. The burning in his throat, the heaviness in his chest, and the pit in his stomach, how much he wishes it could just be his ankle again. He could stop that pain just by sitting down. Sitting does not help him now. The tears slip from his eyes, he takes a deep breath, hiding the bottle back in his bag, and shivers. The door opens and his father frowns, "Are you ready?" Chad nods and stands from the bed, before he maneuvers the backpack from the bed to his shoulder.

When he steps out of the room, his mother steps forward, "Pumpkin."

His father places a hand to her arm, and with a shared look, she keeps her hands off of Chad and he comments, "We can talk later." Chad follows them down the stairs. If keeping quiet makes them leave faster, he won't say a word. He won't say that he won't talk later, he won't say that they need to mind their own business, and he definitely won't tell them that there's nothing to talk about. If people don't have something to talk about, they literally can't talk about it. Saying anything at all would just be stupid. "Hold on." His parents halt at the front door. "I'm going to see if Ben's in the office."

"What?" Chad exasperates. "Why?"

"We're their guests," his father explains. "It's only polite to let them know we're going."

When his father passes him, Chad clings to his arm, "No." and he turns back to him. "If you tell him we're going, he's going to try to talk me out of it."

"I won't let that happen," he raises a hand in reassurance, and after a moment, he walks through the foyer to the office door. He knocks, and after Ben calls out for him to come in, he opens the door. "Hey." Ben faces him, and he informs, "We're leaving."

"Really?" Ben's brows furrow.

"Yes. Uh, Chad's upset." He thinks, "Did you two have an argument or something?"

"I mean, we had an argument," Ben unsurely responds, "but I don't really know what it was about." There's a moment of silence, before Ben stands from the desk. "I should go talk to him."

"No," Charming asserts, and Ben halts. "He doesn't want to talk right now."

"But I have to do something," he counters.

"He wants to go home," Charming says louder, and after a long look, he sighs and glances at the floor. "I can see what he's upset about and get back to you."

Ben takes a moment, "Yeah." before he tries to smile. "Have a good night."

* * *

"So, that platonic romance," Audrey questions, "How did it go?"

Chad makes a pained expression, "He doesn't love me."

"Is that really a surprise?" she inquires. "I mean, he has a girlfriend."

"And what were you to me?" he asserts, and she fails to comment. "Just because he's with someone, that doesn't mean he couldn't have cared." He shakes his head, "Just a little."

"Maybe this is for the best," Audrey stirs the soup. "It's not like you want a sexless relationship, anyway. Wouldn't you rather be with someone you can actually build a life with?"

"I still can't believe he used me like that," Chad vents. "It was all fine when he wanted me to do things Mal refused to do, but the minute I want just a little bit more, he can't even understand anything I say."

Audrey turns, "Were you speaking French?"

"Of course, I was speaking French," Chad angers.

"Alright," Audrey's eyes widen. "I just thought I'd ask."

"He came to me," Chad persists. "I gave him everything he asked for, and what do I get from him? Nothing. He just doesn't care, and… he doesn't care how I feel."

She takes a minute, "I don't want to encourage anything, but you two are friends. Can't you just work this out, draw a line or something so you don't get so hurt."

"Oh, we had boundaries," Chad informs. "But Ben just doesn't care. He keeps crossing it, asking me again and again to do these things I don't want to do anymore."

Audrey hesitates, "What do you mean?"

"He keeps using me," Chad insists. "For this stupid blood fetish of his."

"That's not a fetish," Audrey doubts.

"You weren't there," Chad counters. "His girlfriend wouldn't do it, so he asked me. And now that I finally said no, he won't let up. It's 'Hey. Can we do this sexual thing' all the time, and he doesn't even care about me. I'm not his friend," Chad spats. "I'm nothing to him."

"Chad?" He turns around and frowns at the sight of his dad. "What's going on in here?"

"I, uh," Chad falters.

His dad walks towards them, "You can tell me anything."

Audrey comments, "You should." and Chad looks at her. "This isn't going to stop, unless you say something."

Chad slightly nods, before he faces his father and hesitates, "It's about Ben."


	31. I Just Want It to Stop

**I Just Want It to Stop **

**(Sunday Afternoon, June 7****th****)**

After there's a knock on the door, Ben looks up and watches as it slowly opens. His mother peeks inside, smiles at him, and opens the door further. Ben eyes from the cold cuts' platter to her, "What's this about?"

"You skipped lunch," her eyebrows raise.

Ben eyes off, "Yeah. I want to work. I can't work if my hands are dirty."

She sits across from him, setting the tray down, "It's just meat and cheese." Ben doesn't speak, and she sighs at the paper bag filled with cans on the floor, "You're stressed." Ben pulls the full can towards himself, protecting it with both hands, before he peers up at her. "Honey, you at least need to eat."

"I don't have to do anything." Ben mutters, "I can't do anything. He hates me, and I can't even ask why."

"Don't you have his number?"

Ben eyes off, "Yeah, but after my tenth or so text, his father texted back, saying that I'm not allowed to talk to Chad, and blocked his number."

Her eyebrows furrows, "That's peculiar. Did he explain himself?" Ben shakes his head, and she pulls out her cellphone. "Well, I'm putting a stop to that."

"Mother," Ben eyes widen with worry. "You don't need to."

She laughs, "You're starving yourself and drinking full liters of chemicals." before she finds his number. "Of course, I have to." Ben opens his mouth to excuse his behavior, but when she brings the phone to her ear and he hears the ringing, he stays silent.

"Queen Belle," Chad's dad answers.

"King Charming," she addresses. "I'd like to discuss why our children are no longer permitted to speak to each other."

After a minute, Ben hears him respond, "Yes, but we should talk about this in person. There's a lot I need to tell you."

"When and where?" she agrees.

"Your place tomorrow afternoon?" he suggests.

"Perfect," she smiles.

"Good. I will see you then."

"See you then," she says, before she lowers the phone.

Ben watches her end the call, "That's it?"

"It's better than nothing, isn't it?" she inquires.

"I just—" Ben lifts a hand, "I need to know what I did to make him leave like that."

"And you will," his mother reassures. She smiles, "But in the meantime." and pushes the platter an inch closer to him.

He narrows his eyes at the green frills, "You gave me leaves."

She eyes them, "Sorry about that. I think Mrs. Potts assumed everyone would be eating it when she initially prepared it."

"If only we had a rabbit." Ben thinks, "There's an idea. Why not give it to Aziz?"

"It's touching the meats and ham." Belle reminds him, "I don't think he can have it."

"I've caught him having pepperoni pizza," Ben bypasses. "I really don't think he'd care."

Her eyes widen, "He eats pepperoni?"

Ben's frown deepens, as he slowly says, "Don't tell his parents."

"It's not my place," she agrees.

"Thank you," Ben breathes.

"Here." She gathers the lettuce from the tray, "I shall have it."

"Thank you," Ben says again, before he examines the tray more thoroughly. "Those pink balls. Is that raw hamburger?"

"I think it's more of a German thing," she confirms. He darts his eyes from it to her, and she permits, "Why don't you try it?" Ben hesitates, reaching for the food as though it may bite him, and after he picks it up and brings it to his mouth, he slowly chews. "How is it?"

He lifts a shoulder. It's not as greasy as he expected, but it's cold and even though there's nothing to really chew, the tendons are still strung together, "It's not juicy."

"Well, that's because the blood is still inside the meat, honey."

Ben's eyes shift side to side, "Juice."

"Yes," she hangs onto the word. "The meat juice." Ben looks down, and she inquires, "Is there something else you would prefer?" Ben looks up, and he catches sight of a blue vein beneath her curly, shoulder-length hair. The sense of emptiness intensifies, as her cantaloupe scent fills the air. He slowly reaches for her hair, pushing it back and running a thumb over her soft neck. "Honey?"

Ben hears the denting, as he squeezes the metal can, and he looks down at it, "I need to be alone."

"Ben," she begins.

"I said go," he shouts, and after a moment she nods.

"Alright," she softly says, and Ben stares down at his hands wrapped around the can. "We'll see you at dinner." Ben clenches his teeth, not daring to do or say anything, and when the door shuts, he lets out a wheezing breath. He feels his eyes moisten and swallows the catch in his throat. There's a tightness in his pants, but he's thinking too much of it. It doesn't have to mean anything. This kind of thing happens to guys all the time, at least teenagers. This, it's just a coincidence. He squeezes the can even tighter, and then he feels it, the liquid escaping from the hole and leaking onto his skin.

* * *

After Ben calls for Mal to come in, he looks at the door open and sees her wearing a black robe. He sits up on the side of the bed, as he notices her dry hair, "You don't look like you took a bath."

Mal shuts the door, tilting her head as she walks up to him, eyeing at the ceiling, "Well, that's because I didn't." She smiles as she unties the robe, "You had a bad birthday, so I thought I could give you more than a drawing." and when it falls to the ground, Ben eyes over the black leather bra with translucent green fabric hanging from it. "Remember that outfit I told Evie not to make on my birthday?"

"Uh," Ben attempts to recall.

"It's fine," Mal immediately reassures. "You don't have to." She places a leg on either side of him, sits on his lap, and wraps her arms around him, "I thought now would be a good time to use it." Ben places his hands on her legs, and when he feels the interesting texture, he eyes down at the scars. He runs his thumb over the smooth, bumpy lines, and Mal comments, "If you don't like it, I can cover them."

"No." Ben meets her jade green eyes, his words halted. There's no good way to answer that question. If he says he likes them, she has no reason to stop. If he says he doesn't like them, then suddenly he's body shaming a rape victim. He wets his lips, "You don't need to." His hands run over the scars, and he looks down at them again. It's an enticing sensation, the cold, smooth waves of skin. The white lines are beautiful, really. He shifts his legs, taking a deep breath. Romanticizing depression, getting hard off it, he's sick.

"Ben?"

He sees her frown, "Uh." and he places his knuckles to his mouth as he gulps. Her scent is so overpoweringly sweet and smoky. "What, uh, were you thinking we would do?"

"Well, if you want," Mal offers, "I could give you a blowjob."

"I thought you didn't do that," his frown deepens.

"A condom would make it so you could feel it," she explains. "I got one from Jay."

His eyes narrow as he slowly asks, "Are you ready for that?"

Mal shrugs, "I want to try." and Ben's mouth opens as he glances down.

His heart beats faster, and he widens his eyes at her and shakes his head, "I'm not."

"Okay." Mal thinks as she runs her hands to his shoulders, "What do you want?"

He stares at her for a long moment, "I want to break up." and after he realizes what he'd said, he eyes down.

She half laughs, "What?"

Ben faces her, "I want to break up."

She nervously grins, "If this is about…" and she gestures around the space. "This. We don't need to do this. I don't need to wear this. Not if you don't like it."

"It's not about this," he whispers.

"Then what is it about?" He fails to speak. "Is this about Chad?"

He takes a moment, "I keep breaking my relationships. I keep using people and I don't see how I hurt them, and I break them."

"Ben." Mal shakes her head, "I'm not going to leave you. You don't need to be scared of that ever happening. Okay?"

"I can't keep doing this," he bypasses.

"Can't keep doing what?"

"All of it," he exasperates. "The sex. The blood. I'm tired of it."

"I don't understand," she slowly says. "You ask for that stuff all the time."

"No," Ben's voice raises, and he eyes down, shaking his head. His voice shakes, "I keep thinking it, but I don't want to." He faces her, and she sees the tears in his eyes. "When I'm with you, all I think about is sex and blood, and I don't want to think like that for anyone."

"Ben." Mal reasons, "I'm your girlfriend. You're allowed to think about me like that."

"But I don't want to," Ben shouts, before the tears leave his eyes and he whispers, "Mal. I just can't do this."

"We don't need to break up." Mal gets off him and steps back onto the floor in front of the pull-out couch, "We can just not have sex." Ben sadly chuckles. "What?"

"Nothing," he nearly smiles. "Just you and me being together and not doing sex things." He notices her expression, "It's just, what would we do?"

"Date," Mal asserts. "Normal people date when they're dating."

He eyes over her, "I can't be with you."

"Why not?" she questions in offense.

"I can't be around you," he corrects. "I… I smell you, and I want you. And I don't want to want anyone like that. I don't want to think like that, about those things."

"Then have me," Mal desperately responds, before she steps forward and reaches out to him. He grabs her hands, his jaw dropping, and he tries to keep them off him. "Have all of me," Mal cries. "I don't care."

"Mal," Ben grits his teeth, as he pushes her from him.

"Just have me," she sadly grins. "Please."

"I don't want you," his eyes widen, and when she turns around, he rubs his forehead. "Mal. Wait." Just as she reaches the door, she turns, and he faces her, "You know I still want you in my life, right? We can still talk. We can still be friends."

"I don't know how to be friends, Ben." She tears up, "I've never had any."

"Yes, you do," he denies.

"No, I don't," she shouts. "All I have is a brother, his friend, and…" She silences, letting out a long breath, "I don't have friends."

Ben opens his mouth, but then he remembers Lonnie called herself Mal's pet, "What about Evie?"

"I don't know what she is," Mal manages, "but she's not just some friend to me." Ben looks down, and Mal informs, "If I'm not dating you, we're not going to be happy. Okay, because we're not going to be friends. I don't know how to be just friends with anyone."

Ben stands from the bed, picks the robe up from the floor, and steadily walks towards her. "That's okay." He places the robe over her shoulders, and after she closes it, he meets her eyes and smiles, "I can teach you."

Mal watches as he shuts his eyes hard, and she hears his stomach roar. "Just not right now," she whispers.

"I need a minute," he pleads.

Mal nods, "Yeah." and after she steps out the door, Ben hurries to close it and slides his back down it. He sits on the floor with his knees up, and as he wraps his arms around them, he begins to cry. Mal hears him through the door, "Ben?"

He gulps, "I can still smell you."

She takes a moment, "How are we going to be friends if you can't even be around me?"

Ben looks up but shuts his eyes when his head bumps against the door, "I'll let you know when I know." She stays silent, and he turns towards her, "Mal?"

"Yeah?" she tears up before kneeling.

He opens his mouth before saying, "I need you to be happy."

She sadly laughs, "How can I be happy without you?"

Ben hesitates, "Evie."

"What?" Mal lets out.

"She loves you," Ben informs, "and I know you love her."

"Ben," Mal breathes.

"I want you to be happy," he asserts. "I don't care if you have to break the law to do it."

"You're sure?" she questions.

"I like Evie." He confirms, "If you can't be with me, I want you to be with her."

"You know, I can't get heat from her."

"You have Lonnie for that," Ben notes. "If that's not enough, you can go to Paradise." He pauses, taking a breath, attempting not to cry, "They can only give you guys, because of the law, but so long as you're cared for… I don't mind."

"Ben," she softly speaks. "It's not too late for us, if you changed your mind."

He takes a minute, "I just want to be me. I can't be me if these thoughts are all I think." and he nods. "I want this for you. I want this for us."

After a long silence, Mal inquires, "How much is that one place?"

"Paradise?" Ben tries to remember, "I think Chad said it was twenty dollars per person per hour." He looks at the door, "They have to do what you say. They can't hurt you."

"Good." Mal thinks, "That's… good."

"Something wrong?" Ben questions.

She shakes her head, "I don't know. It's just… you were mine." before she stares at the door. "You were mine."

"I know."

"I have people. I don't lose people," she realizes. "How am I supposed to lose you?"

"You won't," he reassures. "We're still friends."

"But you're not mine," Mal asserts. "And how am I supposed to have some random guy for an hour and then lose him too?" Ben shuts his eyes and brings a hand to his head. "I would have no one. I would just be left again and again."

"Have you been told… Did your, uh, therapist tell you that you have anything?"

"Anything?" Mal questions.

"An illness," Ben rewords. "Has she told you, you have a mental illness?"

"You think I have an illness," she disbelieves.

"You're scared of being left, you tried to scare me away," Ben lists, "and just now, you told me I could have you in a way you don't want me to, because you thought it would get me to stay with you."

"So?"

"Mal." Ben tries to remember the diagnosis, "I think you're borderline."

"I'm what?" she spats.

"The self-harm. Your total love or total hate of people. The way you see yourself," he explains, "it would all make sense."

"I self-harm, because I deserve it," Mal counters.

Ben looks off in annoyance, "You're proving my point for me." before he groans at the stabbing pain in his stomach.

"Ben?" Mal concerns, but he doesn't answer. "Ben," she says louder, and she puts a hand up to the door.

"I'm fine," he asserts.

"No. You're not." Mal tries to open the door, but he blocks it. "Ben," she angers, "let me help you."

"I can sleep it off," he excuses.

"Ben," she asserts.

"You still don't get it," Ben shouts, and she stops. He takes a deep breath, "If you are borderline, you will think this is about you. But it's not. This is about me. I love you. I do, but I don't like thinking about blood. You doing this, it goes… it's not what I want."

"Ben," she whispers.

"I don't want you to hurt yourself," Ben explains. "This isn't about you. You didn't do anything wrong, but I can't be around you right now." He eyes forward, "You have to go."

"At least let me get Carlos," she counters.

"Mal," Ben stresses. "I don't know how to tell you this so you will get it, but I don't want blood. I don't want to think about it."

"If you don't, you'll die," she seethes.

"I don't need it," Ben bypasses. "I'm human."

"No, you're not," Mal yells. "God, Ben. You have to know that by now." He doesn't speak, and she shakily breathes, "Ben. You think about it, because you need it. It's not some sick thought. If you don't have it, you will die."

He emotionlessly says, "Then I will die." and he hears her cry. "Mal. You didn't do anything wrong. This is my choice."

"But it is my fault," she stresses. "I made you forget. I'm why you're like this."

Ben takes a minute, "I'm this way, because this is me. You didn't do this to me."

"I wish I could believe that," she whispers.

Ben folds his arms over his stomach. It's as if his insides are being shoveled out. "Mal." He takes a breath, "I need you to go. If I sleep, the pain will go."

"Why can't you just eat?" she questions.

He thinks, "I want my life to be about more than blood." as he stares at the desk across the room. "I want to be me."

"Blood doesn't change you."

"But it does," Ben counters. "It makes me something I don't like, something that's not me." He pauses, "I feel like people don't see me. When I'm doing the things I hate so much, people think it's who I am… but it's not."

"I don't want you to die, Ben." she worries.

"I don't either." He hesitates, "I just want it to stop."


	32. One

**One **

**(Sunday Night, June 7****th****)**

He'd skipped dinner, and surprisingly, his parents didn't bug him about it. Somehow, he'd slept through the evening, and now that the castle's quiet, he's awake. He stands from the desk, the emptiness overtaking him, and he walks upstairs to the kitchen. He opens the fridge, but there's nothing compelling. It's all things he's had before, all except the thawed package of bacon. He takes it and looks over the flesh. How nice it would be to have the fresh meat, but it's pork. It's not safe uncooked. He can't have it. He puts it back and scours the fridge, freezer, and cupboards, but there is nothing appealing. He turns around and saunters out the archway. He can wait. He's not even hungry right now.

Back at the desk, he stares at the laptop. He could go out into the woods, eat in peace, but he's too terrible at it. He's never caught anything before. He wouldn't do it now, but how good it would feel to bite into the flesh and let the blood flow. He opens a new tab. So long as no one knew he was drinking it, they would treat him the same. He would be normal, but no. The butcher shop doesn't ship food through the mail. He should have expected as much. It would spoil. He exits the tab. There goes that idea. Ben takes a deep breath and stands from the desk. He can have one piece. One piece of uncooked bacon won't hurt him.

When Ben opens the fridge, he takes the package; however, he pauses. It was thawed to be cooked later. They're going to notice. He stares at the flesh. There's no way they're going to notice one missing piece. He opens the package and lets out a breath at the intense, smoky scent. It smells so much better raw than cooked. He takes one slice from the package and chews it. It tastes smoky too. He takes another bite and then another, until the piece is gone. He stares at the package before placing it back where it was. He can't have any more. If he gets ill from some parasite, how is he supposed to explain that to his doctor? His doctor would tell his parents. They would see him differently. No. He shuts the fridge. One is enough.

Now, where was he? Ben looks over the building materials. The materials for the Camelot apartment building costs the most, but it's a preventative cost. Fireproofing the building is necessary. The dragons are still upset with the kingdom, and they need all the protection they can get. He eyes down. Mal could go to the butcher for him. Everyone knows she's a dragon hybrid. If she got blood from the butcher no one would be surprised, but then he'd have to ask her. He can't do that, not after he hurt her so much. She was wrong, though. He is human. His parents are both human. He must be too. His father eats meat. He doesn't drink blood. Ben will be fine too. He eyes up before checking the time. He can have one more piece. He stands from the desk and heads upstairs. No one cooks one piece anyway. It will look better if he takes a couple more. Ben opens the fridge, takes one bacon out, and takes another piece out. It's so sweet too, but mostly smoky. Why would anyone cook this? It tastes way better this way. He takes the third piece from the package and bites into it. The fatty bits are a little chewy. Turkey bacon would probably be better, but the meat itself is so nice to bite into. His teeth are so satisfied right now. That's it. Three pieces are gone now. That's the perfect amount. He can tell them he cooked some bacon and eggs. He shuts the fridge. There's no reason they should assume anything.

When Ben sits back down at his desk, he checks the time and places his hand back onto the mouse. He scrolls down. Chad and Audrey's kingdoms have the lowest costs. They don't need to worry about hurricanes, sandstorms, or dragons, but are the building's designs able to withstand a tornado or flood? He brings a hand to his mouth in thought, and he smells it. That bacon was so good. He peers at the door. His parents should still be asleep. There's no reason why he can't have just one more. Ben stands from his desk and walks to the kitchen once more.

* * *

Ben shakes his head when he enters the kitchen, "Carlos. I told you to keep Dude in the East Wing." and when he sits down, the dog tries to jump up. "No, Dude."

"I forgot to close the gate," Carlos frowns. "Sorry."

Ben irritably shakes his head. That's all he needs, is more blood that he can't have. He sighs. At least Evie's sitting next to him instead of Mal. She covers her scent with perfume. If there's anyone here he can be around, it's her. "Where's the meat?" his father says, and Ben frowns as he eyes from his father to Mrs. Potts.

"Funny thing," she responds. "I had some bacon ready to cook, but by the time I'd gotten here, it was already eaten."

"All of it?" his mother inquires.

"All of it," the servant confirms, and his parents look at him.

"What?" he defends.

"Who else is going to eat meat in the middle of the night?" his mother calmly comments.

"I don't know," Ben immediately responds. "How about the carnivore?"

"Right." Evie jabs, "Because, you're not."

"I didn't eat it." Mal alibis, "I was with Evie all night."

"You mean with," Doug inquires, "or with with?" Mal darts her eyes at him, and he adjusts his glasses. "Okay, then."

Mal notices Belle's expression, "Don't worry. It's fine. Ben broke up with me, so it's all perfectly fine."

"You did what?" his mother faces him.

"I just can't be with anyone right now," he excuses.

"Well, as happy as I am to hear you've come to your senses," his father interrupts, "can we get back to the bacon."

"Oh, for goodness' sake," his mother stresses. "Please, tell me you at least cooked it."

"I'm not an animal," he shouts.

"No," she agrees. "I know. It's just… Adam. Help me."

"It wouldn't be the first time you ate raw bacon," his father reasons.

Ben suspiciously eyes him, "I don't know what you're talking about." before the dog's paws land on his legs again.

He lightly pushes him off, and his mother frowns, "Ben. Just be honest." He faces her, and she questions, "Did you eat the bacon?"

"Yeah, okay," Ben quickly answers. "I cooked it. I ate it."

"You had to have known it was for all of us," his father replies. "What were you thinking?"

Ben hears the dog bark and irritably responds, "I wasn't." before he shakes his head at the disgusting smells. "Can I go? The food's making me feel sick."

"But you haven't even eaten," his mother disbelieves.

The dog tries jumping on him again, and Ben pushes him off, "Dude, Stop it."

"If he wants to go," Adam comments, "let him. It's not like there's anything here for him." She gapes at him, and he frowns, "What? It's not like he's going to eat hash browns."

"He will if there's ketchup," she counters, before she faces Ben. "Honey."

When the dog's paws land on Ben's leg again, he grits his teeth at him, "I said stop." and the next moment the dog whimpers and runs to hide behind Carlos. He sighs, "Dude. I'm sorry."

"What's wrong with you?" Carlos says, and Ben meets his horrified expression.

"Honey." He faces his mother, and she hesitates, "Uh. Did you just, um, growl?"

No. No, he didn't, but when Ben eyes over everyone's silence, he knows he did. He faces his mother and darts his eyes between his parents, before he abruptly stands and hurries away.

"Ben," his father calls, before he grumbles. "You should talk to him."

"I've tried," she sighs, "but this whole development's embarrassed him." She looks at him, "You should try."

"But I'm not good at the talking thing," he counters.

"Adam," she takes his hand. "You know what he's going through. It has to be you."

He takes a deep breath, "Very well." before he stands from the table and makes his way to the hall.

"Seriously," Jay disbelieves, and she meets his gaze. "You're going to let him be alone with Ben?"

"Adam's doing well right now," Belle busies herself with the lunch. "There's no reason why he can't try to be a half decent father every once in a while."

"I guess," Mal's eyebrows furrow, before she gives Jay a look. "I'm going for a walk. You coming?"

He frowns, "But we just woke up." Her eyes widen, and he sighs, "Yeah. I'll come with."

"Alcohol?" Doug inquires.

"Shut up," Mal shouts, and Doug purses his lips with a silent grin.

After Adam opens the door, he sees Ben on the Bed, "Can I come in? Ben merely eyes down, so he comes in, shuts the door, and grabs the desk chair to sit across from him. "So," he uncomfortably starts. "Was that, uh, the first time… you know, that it—"

"No," Ben whispers, before he gulps.

"So, when did it start?"

He takes a moment, "Around last winter."

"Wow," his father surprises. "That's a long time to keep it a secret." Ben doesn't respond, and he hesitates, "Son. This, what you're experiencing, it's normal for us."

He faces him, "You don't growl."

"Well, no," his father accepts, "but that's just because I shout so much, I no longer can. I, uh." He clears his throat, "I've ruined my vocal cords in a way."

"So, if I scream," Ben thinks, "then this can stop."

"No, uh," his father pauses. "I don't think it's that simple." Ben doesn't comment, so he explains, "It's just that… it took years for me to lose my voice, and when I lost it, I did lose it. I took me a while to even get that much back."

"So, I'm stuck with it," Ben realizes, as a heavy dread fills his chest. "I'm not even human." He meets his father's blue eyes, "Am I?"

His father's mouth opens, before he admits, "No. You're not." and Ben holds his breath as the tears intruding his eyes slip to his cheeks. "I know we've misled you," his father apologizes, "but we were just doing what we thought was best for you."

"Go," Ben stares past him.

"Ben," he tries to reason.

"I said go," Ben roars, and the long sound turns into shaky cries. He knew it'd happen, but he hadn't cared until he'd heard it. He wraps the blanket tighter around him, and he shakes his head at him, "Just go. Please."

His father nods, "Okay, then." before he stands; however, after he makes it to the door and cracks it open, he turns around. "Just know… you're not alone. We're here for you." Ben fails to look at him, and he nods, "Okay… I'll just…" He turns back to the door, "I'll go." before he leaves Ben alone and heads back to the dining room.

"That sounded like it went well," Carlos intrudes, and Adam glances at him, before he sits and faces Belle.

"I wish we'd had more time. He was supposed to find out after that hybrid meeting." He places a hand to his head, "Now, it's just the same as before."

"So, he knows," she nods.

"He knows," he confirms.

Evie watches Doug stand from the table, "Where are you going?"

"To talk to him," he answers as he makes his way around the table.

"Uh, no," Carlos counters. "He's a mess. I don't think talking to him right now is a really good idea."

"And why's that?" Belle questions.

Carlos glances at her before sternly eyeing Doug, "He's going to kill you."

"He's my friend," Doug disbelieves.

"Yeah," Carlos agrees, "but you shouldn't have to die for him."

Adam grumbles, "Maybe now isn't the best time."

Doug evenly nods, "Right. I'll just have to forget about all the suicide attempts he did on my watch." before he gives Ben's parents a look, shakes his head, and turns into the hall.

"Wait," Belle puts a hand up. "Attempts, as in multiple?" She offers a shocked expression, and Carlos and Evie share a look. "Well?"

Evie eyes over her nails, "I'm sure that's not what Ben was actually thinking."

Carlos stares at her, "What? Is the voice telling you to cover for him?"

She smiles at him and innocently inquires, "What voice?"

"You're unbelievable," Carlos comments. "The voice that's telling you to hide your food in your napkin right now."

Belle notices the folded napkin, "Evie." and she frowns at her. "The napkin." Evie eyes off in annoyance, as she slides the napkin towards her. Belle's mouth gapes, "If I'd wasted this much food—"

"Making her feel guilty isn't going to get her to stop," Carlos informs.

Belle nods and takes a deep breath, "Evie." before she tries to smile at her. "Next time I'd like you to just be honest."

Evie half laughs, "Of course."

She nods, "You're excused." but as Evie leaves, she eyes over the room. "Did Doug really go to see Ben?"

Adam sighs, "I'll get him." before he stands from the table.

Carlos unsurely looks at Belle, "You do know that he really did almost kill me once, right? Like, I wasn't just overreacting."

"I must apologize," she frowns. "His appetite is growing, but he never eats, and I can't seem to convince him. It's quite ridiculous." She eyes over him, "Did he hurt you?"

"Um, no," Carlos excuses. "It was just… kind of intense."

She nods, "Good." before picking up her fork. "That's good."

* * *

"Now's not a good time, Doug."

He watches him wipe the tears from his face, "Not hungry?"

Ben laughs, "I'm always hungry." and Doug nods before stepping closer. He cautiously eyes him, "Stay back."

Doug pauses before walking closer, "You need me."

"I told you not to ask me," he seethes.

Doug sits beside him, "I'm not asking." before he faces him. "It's here if you want it, and I'm still going to be here if you don't."

"Just because I can growl," Ben eyes away, "that doesn't make me a carnivore."

"No," he accepts. "It doesn't."

"I could just be crazy," Ben's eyes widen.

"And I told you I won't tell you that." Ben meets his green eyes, and he reassures, "Even if this is just a need in your mind, I won't tell you you're crazy."

Ben looks down at his sleeve, "People think blood is gross. What if I only like it in my mind? What if I don't like it when I have it?"

He takes a moment, "I still won't call you crazy."

Ben tightly folds his hands, and after a minute of silence, he nods, "Yeah. Okay. One time isn't going to hurt anything." He faces him, "And if I hate it, I don't have to keep thinking about it. Right?"

"Yeah," he frowns.

"So, uh," Ben feels his teeth tense, "how do we do this?"

"Well," Doug breathes. "We could just do what we did last time."

Ben's face falters, "What?" Doug unbuttons his shirt's cuff, and as he rolls the sleeve up, Ben notices the scars on his wrist. "How? What…" He eyes the two marks at the bottom of the wrist, "Is that… are those teeth marks?"

"Uh, yeah," Doug recognizes them. "But I, uh, have a knife if that's easier."

Ben frowns at him, "How bad was it?"

"The bite?"

"Yeah," he worries.

"Well," he adjusts his glasses. "It wouldn't stop bleeding. I, uh, think it was your bottom teeth that did it."

"My bottom teeth?" Ben questions.

"Open up," Doug instructs, and Ben slowly opens his mouth. He examines them, "Yeah. That's not normal." before he points. "Your bottom canines are a lot longer and sharper than they should be." He thinks, "Well, for a human." Ben immediately shuts his mouth, and Doug comments, "So…"

Ben watches him take out the pocketknife and hurries, "You don't need to do this."

"Ben," Doug's eyes widen, "it's fine. Really." Ben opens his mouth to deny that fact, but it slowly shuts as he transfixes on the blade connecting to the skin and the red releasing. Doug moves his wrist up towards him, "It's okay." and after being permitted to, Ben latches onto his wrist. It's sweet. It's so sweet, but the juice does not flow enough. He nips at the wound to make it bigger, and as his front teeth cut, more liquid flows. It's full and intense, and it's just so unbelievably good. He must have more.

When the door opens, Doug stares at Ben's father; however, with a single glance over the situation, Adam merely steps inside and slowly shuts the door. He steps towards them, and after Ben finally takes a breath, Adam places a hand on his shoulder. His eyes shoot up, "Father. I, uh. I was just—"

"You don't need to explain," he interrupts, glancing at Doug's injury. "I assume you have a first aid kit somewhere." Ben leans forward to grab it from underneath the bed, and after he starts to take care of Doug, his father asks, "So, how long have you been doing this?"

"I don't like to do this," Ben immediately answers.

"That's no what I asked."

Ben shakes his head, "I don't know."

"Well, then, how often," his father persists. "Once every few weeks?"

He gulps. Is that how often it's supposed to be? "I, uh." He hesitates, "I don't keep, um, track of it, really."

"You should." He comments, "You need to get to know your body better."

Ben gives him a look, "Do we need to talk about this?"

"That depends," his father counters. "Do you know how to take care of yourself?"

"Father." Ben asserts, "I'm fine. Really." before he shuts the kit. "Okay?"

He nods, "Okay, then." but after he takes a few steps, he turns back to Doug. "And you're okay?"

"Yeah," he nods. "I'm fine."

"Good," he nods again, before he leaves back to the dining room.

"Where's Doug?" Belle questions.

"Oh," Adam sits beside her. "It turned out they were behaving, so I left them to, uh, talk."

"So, Ben didn't try to tear him to pieces?" Carlos asks.

"No." He uneasily responds, "His friend is still in one piece."

Carlos's brows furrow as he hums, "Weird." and stands from the table.

After Belle hears him turn down the stairs, she frowns at Adam, "Is he really okay?"

"Doug is fine," he promises. "Alright? They both are."

She nervously nods, "Yeah. Alright."

Adam places an arm over her shoulders, "Belle. There's nothing to concern yourself with. Our son is going to be fine."

"Going to be?" she notices.

Adam shushes her and places a kiss on her forehead, "There's nothing to worry about."

* * *

\- Ben going back-and-forth from the desk to the raw bacon may or may not be based on something I definitely did not do in middle school one early morning.


	33. Can You Hear Me

**Can You Hear Me **

**(Monday Afternoon, July 8****th****)**

"How are holding up?" Belle questions as she walks into the office, and she watches when Ben hums and shakes his head hard. "That good?" He hums again, and she takes a seat in the chair across from him. "Want to talk about it?" He keeps quiet, and she sighs, "Honey. I know you must feel very…"

"Doug said Mal hypnotized me," he interrupts. "Is that true?"

She takes a moment, "You asked her to." and he runs a hand down his mouth. "I know you must feel… betrayed." She reaches out to him, and he pulls his hands from the desk. She glances down, "I don't expect you to react any better than the first time."

He faces her, "How and I react the first time?"

"Well, uh." She strengthens her words, "You tried to kill yourself, apparently." and his mouth gapes as he turns away. "Your friends neglected to say just how many times." He continues to stare off at the side wall, and she comments, "Ben. Your life hasn't changed. You're still the same person you've always been."

"How can you possibly say that?" Ben widens his eyes at her. "I'm a monster."

"You're not a monster," she asserts.

He slightly shakes his head, "You don't know me." She laughs, and his frown deepens. "Of course, you don't believe me."

"It's not that," she reassures. "It's just always so refreshing to hear you speak like an everyday teenager."

"So, I'm not," he notes.

"No. You're always just so serious and responsible," she explains. "Most teenagers, even royals, feel as though they are the only one in the world who has their experiences."

"Because a lot of teenagers inherit an entire country as the only member of their species," he counters. "And suffers from a life-threatening illness their citizens aren't allowed to know."

"Well, there's that," his mother frowns.

"No wonder I attempted suicide," he evenly responds, as he picks up the pen again and scans over the laptop screen. "It was probably the smart thing to do."

"There are smarter ways to solve problems than to kill yourself," his mother disbelieves.

"Really?" Ben smiles at her, "Tell me." before he scratches his nose. "Tell me. Let's start with my terminal illness, how do I solve that?"

"Hyperthermia is not terminal," she denies.

"Yes, it is," Ben stresses, "and it causes brain damage before then."

"The medicine helps," she reminds him.

"For how long?" his mouth gapes. "And how about when I actually get sick. We never know what to do with me then."

"Well, you have Mal now," she reasons.

"I broke up with her," his voice raises.

"But you still love her," his mother's eyebrows rise.

"It doesn't matter. I'm not going out with her, and so long as I'm like this, I'm not going to." He rants, "And even if I did, she can't take my heat when I'm sick, because if she gets sick, she can't retain any heat for herself."

His mother gives a look, "You can't avoid people forever."

He eyes off, "I'm better off without them." before he glances down. "And as it turns out, they're better off without me too."

"I'm not a people person either," his mother replies, "but we all need companionship. We still need to feel loved and validated."

"Which is exactly why I choose not to talk to people," Ben blankly looks at her. "I feel a whole lot better working than when I'm surrounded by people judging me."

"Those are just strangers," she negates. "You shouldn't need to take their words so personally."

"It's not strangers," Ben's brows furrow. "It's Father. It's you. It's my friends. It's…" He shakes his head, "It's Chad." before he pulls a drawer open, slams it shut, and stands from the desk. "Where's my soda?" He walks over to the pullout couch, kneels, slides out a twenty-four pack from underneath. "Found you."

"Right." She watches him carry the case the to the desk, and when he sits down, she hesitates, "The, uh, meeting has been rescheduled for tomorrow."

"You know what?" Ben smiles. "It's fine. I don't need Chad." He cracks the can open and takes a relaxing drink before examining it, "I have you."

His mother eyes between it and him, "I think I'd rather have you have Chad."

"Well, that's too bad," Ben counters, "because Chad doesn't want me."

"I'm sure we'll have this all sorted out tomorrow," she reassures.

"How?" Ben exasperates. "All that meeting is going to be is you two speculating what's going on with Chad and me, when only Chad knows what's upsetting Chad."

"It's likely he told his father," she suggests, "and that's why you've been blocked." She thinks, "Chad just had a hard time telling you, so his father is going to help him get it across." He shakes his head, and she inquires, "You don't think so?"

Ben places a hand to his head, "Chad just confuses me too much." before his brows raise. "It's not like he ever says what he actually means. This whole thing could be nonsense."

"It sounded serious," she debates.

"I don't care," Ben complains. "All I know is I'm going over all this, and I can't even ask for a second opinion because Chad's being Chad."

"I could get your father."

"I don't need Father," Ben shouts. "I need—" He can't have Chad. Ben eyes off and mutters, "I need you to go."

She takes a minute, "I think we need to discuss your suicide attempts first."

He gives her a look, "That's going to be hard when I only remember one of them."

"Then let's talk about that one," she solves.

"No. I'm not discussing this with you."

"Why ever not?"

"Because," he stresses. "You're going to take his side."

"Whose side?"

"His." Ben breathes, "Father's."

"There are no sides, when it comes to you and your father," she says.

"Yes, there is," his eyes widen. "And you always choose him!"

She watches him lean his head into his hand, covering his eyes, "Honey?"

"Just go," he manages, trying to swallow back the tears.

"No," she quietly comments. "I'm not leaving you like this, especially now that I know you've tried to end your life multiple times."

"Then send Evie," he grits his teeth. "Just go." He shakes, "Please."

She sighs, "Alright."

Ben hears her stand from the chair, and as her scent becomes more and more distant, he peeks towards the door. He watches her step out, lays his head in his arms on the desk, and stares at his soda before sliding it towards himself, "You would never leave me, would you?" He takes a sip and lets out a calming breath, "No. I know you won't." as he clutches it tight and brings it close. It is his, and it will forever be his.

* * *

"Hey," Evie steps into the room, and Ben peers up from his arms. "How's it going?"

"Tired." He complains, "Nothing… It doesn't… Fuck English. You know French yet?"

"Um," Evie unsurely responds, as she goes to take a seat. "Carlos is doing better than any of us, but we're still not that far." Her eyes shift, "Mal's really been having a hard time with it. She tries, but… she can read it. She just can't speak it."

"And you?" he questions.

"I'm probably doing a whole lot better with German," she softly answers. "I think it's like biological. I heard people complain about German being hard, because it uses the throat, but it's pretty easy for me, actually. Like how Carlos's French pronunciation is so perfect. It's probably just that I'm good at German because I'm German, and he's good at French because he's French." She hesitates, "Sorry. Did you get that?"

"Enough," Ben frowns.

"But I'm doing okay with French too," Evie reassures. "I'm just not as fast with it as Carlos. He's actually reading stuff on his own."

"Yeah," Ben recalls. "My mother said he likes to go to the, uh… the book room. She had to show him the other door to it. Father doesn't like it, though, I guess."

"Hmm," Evie hums.

"Yeah. Uh." He faces her, "How much do you know about… about money? A lot, right? You have your own business."

"I suppose," she frowns. "Why?"

He shows the laptop to her, "I'm trying to even the money out. If less is needed, then the… it can be built— The buildings can be built faster."

She offers an unsure look, "Is it really a good idea to cut corners?"

"No." Ben explains, "That's what I'm trying not to do." He hands her the notebook, "This is what I think we might be able to do without, but I'm not sure." He darts his eyes from it to her, "Do you think we can cut any these?"

She hands the notebook back to him, "I can't read half of that."

Ben wets his lips, as he notices the French writing, "Right." He pulls out his phone and types the first word into the translator, before he shows Evie, "This."

Evie squints at it, "Cellar? Like a wine cellar?"

"What?" Ben's brows furrow. "No. Like for bad… like rain and stuff. The place below floors, if there's bad… storm." He stresses, "The word is storm."

"Oh," she recognizes. "You mean, a basement."

"A what?" Ben questions, before he shakes his head and pulls the work back towards himself. "Fuck this. I need Chad."

"You can't call him?" Evie inquires.

"No." Ben mumbles, "I did something or something, I guess." before he reaches for his soda. "I can't talk to him right now. His dad won't let me."

"Rough," Evie seethes. "How are you doing with that?"

He shakes his head, "I don't know what to do with myself." before he sets the pen back down. "I didn't know how much I… that he helped me until now." He meets her dark brown eyes, "He's been there forever, you know? I didn't think anything of it until now."

She nods, "Yeah. I can get that."

He takes a moment, "So, uh, how's it going with Mal?"

"Why don't you ask her?" she counters.

"No. I mean…" Ben wets his lips, "I said she could, um, see you, you know, after I said I didn't want her to see me." He awkwardly smiles, "How is that going?"

"Oh. Um," Evie eyes down for a moment, before she tries to smile at him. "She didn't really tell me that."

"Oh," Ben frowns. "Well, uh, I think she just took it hard. She'll tell you."

Evie whispers, "Why would she want me, when she could have Lonnie?"

Ben takes a moment, "I don't think Lonnie is like that. I mean… You know?"

"No," Evie gives him a look. "Being gay isn't something you can see. Okay? Just because a girl acts like a guy or dresses super fem or butch doesn't make them gay." Ben merely stares at her, and she sighs, "You cannot see gay. It is inside a person. So, you can't know if Lonnie likes girls or not."

"I just…" Ben's eyes shift, "She comes from an army family. She wouldn't do that."

Evie's thin eyebrows raise as her mouth gapes, but she merely shakes her head, "I might have to watch you, but I don't need to hear this."

Ben watches her stand, "Where you going?"

Evie walks over to the bed and lays back on it, "Nowhere. I'm right here, and I'm going to stay here until it's time for dinner."

He blankly looks at her, "I'm not going to dinner."

"That's fine." Evie takes out her nail file, "I don't need to either."

* * *

"Ben," his mother shouts, and his eyes widen as she comes into the office. "It's time for dinner. What do you think you're doing?"

"Um." He eyes over to Evie for help, and her eyes move up from her phone.

She smiles at Belle, "Oh, we're not having dinner tonight."

Belle gasps, "Think again." before she points to do the door. "Evie. Go to the dining room. We'll be there shortly."

"I'm not going to eat anything," Evie informs.

"I want you to at least drink some milk," she sternly eyes her, and Evie rolls her eyes as she gets up from the pullout couch.

"Fine."

Belle stares at Ben, until the door shuts, and she strides over to him, "You promised us you would eat. You can't keep doing this to us."

"To you?" Ben's brows furrow.

"Is this your next suicide attempt?" his mother questions. "To slowly starve yourself to death and have us know we can't do anything to stop you?"

"Not everything is about you," Ben yells. "Can't I just not be hungry for once?"

His mother silences for a moment, "You're right. This isn't about us." before she goes to sit across from him. "This is about you."

"Okay," Ben cautiously plays along.

"I want you to tell me…" She falters, "I need you to tell me what it is your father could have done to cause you to… to want to end your own life." Ben shakes his head, and she says, "I know I give him a lot of benefit of the doubt, but I promise I can listen without judgement."

Ben glances down before eyeing past her, "I just hated seeing him everywhere. Everywhere I went—I could just be looking outside my window—and there was this statue of him. I turn on the TV and everyone just relays his accomplishments. I walk through the castle, and there are portraits of him everywhere. There's portraits of him in the school library!" He stares down at his folded hands, "Everyone just thinks he's such a great man, a great father… I'm the one being unreasonable and disrespectful, because I see he's not."

"I know it must be hard to see past some things he's done—"

Ben widens his eyes at her, "You said you wouldn't make excuses."

She pauses a long moment, "All I mean is… it's hard to step out of someone's shadow, especially someone you see as flawed, but all royals are seen as more than human, Ben." She frowns, "Everything we do and say will be adorned and scrutinized to the greatest degree, but that should not keep you from being the best you can be."

"And you're completely missing the point," Ben half laughs.

"No," she evenly expresses. "I think you are." Her tone saddens, "Everyone wants to think they're special, but you're not. Everyone's been overshadowed and misjudged at least once in their lives. You're not any different."

"You think I want to feel this way?" Ben disbelieves.

"No." She reasons, "I believe you feel this way, because as a teenager you won't have the experience to come to this knowledge yourself. Which is exactly why I'm telling you this. The sooner you see what's happening here, the sooner you can solve the issue and move on." Ben huffs, and she continues, "Perhaps it's easier to believe you're different so that you don't need to face reality, but the reality is you're not any different from the rest of us."

"You think I want to be different?" Ben screams, "Who would want to be a freak?"

She takes a minute, "It's just something to consider." before she stands from the chair. "I'll give you some time to settle down, but I want you sitting with us within five minutes."

"I'm not Father," Ben shouts. "I'm still going to feel this way the next time you try to talk to me about it. My emotions are linked to my feelings about things. I'm not some fucking raging lunatic who shoves someone to the ground because of some stupid scratch on the floor."

His mother keeps a hand on the doorknob, as she turns around and frowns; however, after eyeing over him, she merely says, "I do love you."

After she shuts the door, he roars and throws his phone at the door, before he breaks into sobs and rummages through his drawers. The bottom one opens, and he halts as he sees the heart box of chocolates and takes it out. He runs his thumb over the ruff, red ribbon before untying the bow. He was going to give this to her for Mother's Day, but he was still at school, and whenever he visited, he could never find her alone. It never got to her. He takes the top off, reaches for a rectangular chocolate, but then puts the orange crème back. The sugar smells nauseating, and he has to put the cover back on.

When Ben continues to search the drawers, he finds a blue bottle of cold medicine and takes the cap off. It's half full. The chances are fifty-fifty. Either he will die tonight, or he will wake up tomorrow. He sets the card back on the chocolates and rests his hand there for a moment. Does he really want her to see it? He sighs. Well, if he dies, it's not like he has anything to lose. He moves his hand from the heart box to the bottle, before he opens it and chugs the disgusting berry flavor. He sets it down, steps over to the bed, and as his heart seems to slow, the heaviness of his lids shut his eyes.

* * *

After Mal knocks, she opens the door, "Ben. Your mother—" Her eyes move from the empty bottle on the desk to his motionless body on the bed, and she runs over to him. "Ben?" she worries, before she places a hand in front of his mouth and feels the breath. She sighs in relief and scratches her forehead, before she tries shaking him awake; however, he doesn't budge. She places a hand to his neck, feeling that it isn't even warm, and she swears the thumping of the veins is less than what it should be. He still might not survive this. She needs to think. Mal eyes back over to the bottle and hurries to the desk, before she reads the warnings on the back. It only mentions side effects to the liver, but she's not taking any chances. She has to do something.

Mal's eyes move to the Mother's Day card on the desk, and she opens it for a minute. Between the nouns and the words she has learned, she can just make it out. _Roses are red. Violets are blue. I could have asked for no mother better than you. Love, Ben_. She shuts the card and takes a deep breath as she strides back over to him. That didn't help. How is she supposed to help him? She takes his hand and notices her wrist. If he had something else in his body, that could dilute it. She places a nail over her wrist, but then she halts and her eyes shift. That medicine was probably an acid. Is blood a base or an acid? Would a dragon's blood be more acidic? Carnivores have more acidic systems, but does that affect their blood? He's not even moving. She has to try it. Mal runs a nail down her wrist, and as it starts to flow, she places it to his mouth. She feels the slow sucking, as he gulps the liquid down, but when he gasps her air, she moves her wrist away from him.

Ben's vision is blurred, but he can still make out the girl with the brown, thick curls, "Mother?" Her mouth moves, but he can't comprehend the words. He feels so tired, but those curls. He reaches out for them, and he partly smiles as he runs his fingers down a stand. He mumbles, "I love you."

Mal watches his hand fall, as his eyes shift shut again. "Ben?" she worries. She hears the muttering French and sighs. "That's, uh… That's a good thing." She wipes the blood from his lips and hurries to the bathroom, before she cleans herself up and heads back upstairs.

"Where's Ben?" Adam questions.

Mal takes a moment, "I think he took some cold medicine. I had a hard time waking him up." before she shakes her head. "He just fell back asleep again."

"He was upset earlier." Belle turns to Adam, "It could have induced a fever."

He shakes his head, "I'm starting to think he's doing this on purpose."

Mal thinks, "What's Mother's Day?"

"Well, it's a holiday where mothers are gifted items from their children and tend to be given special treatment," Belle supplies. "Why?"

"I just saw this card on his desk," Mal frowns. "I was curious."

"But Mother's Day would have been a couple months ago," she frowns in return. "Are you sure that's what it was?"

"It was in French," Mal unsurely responds, "but it had the word for mother, and I think it said day. Sooo…"

She stands from her seat, "Where is it? I'd like to see it myself."

"On his desk," Mal supplies, and she watches as Belle walks around the table. "Are you sure now's a good time for that?" Belle offers a questioning look. "I just mean with dinner and everything," Mal partially laughs it off.

"It will give me a chance to check on him," she answers. "I don't like how I left things with him earlier."

"But he's asleep," Mal counters.

"I should still check on him," she says, before she walks down the stairs and steps into the office. Belle glances from Ben to the desk, before she walks over to it and notices the chocolate box and card. She opens it, but as she reads, she notices the empty bottle next to it. She drops the card, her mouth agape as she picks up the bottle and hurries to Ben's side. "Honey?" She moves the hair from his face, and he groans. "Honey? Can you hear me?"

"The jam is red," Ben mutters.

"The jam?" she inquires.

"It tastes red," he confirms.

She pauses, "Ben. Why didn't you give me the card?"

"The card?" he repeats.

"Why didn't you give me the Mother's Day card?" she rephrases.

He takes a minute, "It used to be easy. Now, it's not."

"What used to be easy?" she prompts.

"You," his eyes remain closed. "You used to be easy. I don't know when it got so hard."

"What's hard?" He fails to speak, and she takes his hand, "Ben. What's hard?"

"Why do you always choose him?" his pitch raises.

"What do you mean?"

"It hurts." She sees the tears in the corners of his eyes, "It's always him. You choose him. You're with him all the time." He gulps, "I care and I love so much, and it's gone. I put it all in a basket and wrap a bow on it, and it's… it's nothing to you. I give you everything I have, and I never see it again."

"Honey." She makes a sad noise, "You know I love you."

"If you loved me, you would leave him," he proclaims.

She moves her hand away from his, "Ben."

"How hard would it be," he persists, "just to have you for myself for a single minute."

She takes a moment, "We're alone now."

"Good to know," Ben cracks his eyes open. "All I need to do to get your attention is to kill myself." He contemplates, "Am I dead?"

"No, honey," she sadly laughs with tears in her eyes. "You're not dead."

"It feels like I am." He notices the light brown, "You changed your hair." before he reaches for the curls.

"No. Um," she tries to think. "It was Mal you saw earlier, dear."

He lets his hand fall from her hair, before he faces her, "I love you."

"I know you do," she acknowledges.

"Why can't you love me?"

"I, um." She hesitates, "Ben. I am your mother, and that means I will love you unconditionally, but… I think, maybe, it's different than what you want from me."

"But I don't even need to have you," his eyes shift. "I just want you." He takes her hand, "I always feel better when you're around. Why can't we just have this?"

"Your father wouldn't see a difference," she reminds him.

"It's always about him," Ben frustrates, before he lets out a long breath.

"He's my husband. You need to respect that."

"Mother," he meets her warm brown eyes. "I'm really tired."

"Of course," she eyes down for a second. "Would you like me to leave?"

"No," he hurries. Ben brings her hand closer and wraps his other hand around it, "Stay here, please. Just for a minute."

She slowly nods, "I can do that."

He shuts his eyes, "I love you."

Belle hesitates, before she places a kiss on top of his head, "I love you too."

* * *

**Posted**: 06/24/2019

**Megan** I'm glad I could help. Thank you for your continued support. I'm sorry I couldn't post these chapters sooner, but I was trying to find a good stopping point for these sets of chapters... That being said, between this story, Side Problems, and Islander Adventures, you now have seventy-five pages to read. My bad. Lol. Don't worry. I have faith that you'll get through those eleven chapters- no problem. #SorryNotSorry Guten Gluck. Not me, though, because my writing laptop can't use alt codes, so I can't spell German right anymore. SAD.

\- So, I've been working on a new project... Anyone else here a fan of GTLive? I know I am. I'll give more details as I'm closer to finishing the first video.


	34. The Game

**The Game **

**(Tuesday Afternoon, July 9****th****)**

"It's just you, then," Belle notices as she sets the tray of tea on the table, sitting across from him.

"I didn't want to bring Ella into this," King Charming frowns. "She's always been so strong, emotionally, but family is her weak point."

"That's understandable," she acknowledges, "given her history."

"This sounds serious," Adam prods on.

"Uh, yes." Charming adjusts his seating, "I'm afraid it is." He hesitates, "This is all very uncomfortable for me to say, and I must say in advance that I don't mean any offense by it."

"This had to do with our sons," Belle prompts.

"Yes. Um." Charming takes a moment, "I guess there was something Mal refused to do as Ben's girlfriend, and so he asked Chad to do it instead."

Belle sighs, and Adam questions, "What did he ask, exactly?"

"This is where I feel I'm overstepping." He explains, "I know how private you are as a family, and when I was told this I couldn't help but think…"

"This is a private matter," Belle frowns. "Private things are bound to come up." She looks to her side, "Isn't that right, Adam?"

"Uh, yes," he agrees. "Of course."

Charming breathes, "Okay." but he still takes a moment. "Ben asked Chad if he could, um, well, drink his blood, wrote it off as some sex thing."

"Oh, God," Belle gasps, before she briefly touches his hand. "Pardon me."

"I understand," he evenly expresses. "It's a lot to take in." He pauses, "But if I may ask, it was an excuse, wasn't it?"

Adam grumbles, "Magic can go wrong. It's part of the reason we outlawed it."

"Retired, dear," Belle places a hand to his shoulder.

"Awe, yes." He corrects himself, "Retired."

"That's what I thought." Charming continues, "What I don't understand is that Ben keeps asking him. Chad agreed to it once, just because of the close friendship they've always had, but after he said he didn't want to anymore, Ben has still continuously asked for it."

"Wait," Adam holds up a hand. "When was this?"

He slowly shakes his head, "This last week, I think."

"But that would be twice in a week," he announces.

"Adam?" Belle inquires, and he makes a noise.

"I saw Ben take some from Doug yesterday," he admits. "If he did the same to Chad, that's twice in a week he's done this."

She gives him a look, "You told me they were behaving."

"It was consensual," he excuses. "I didn't want to bother you with it.

She shakes her head, "You know, I saw him getting close to Audrey the other night too, but silly me. I thought it was just normal, teenage behavior."

"Audrey," Charming's mouth gapes. "She was there when Chad told me. She didn't say anything about that."

"I stopped it before it could happen," Belle informs. "Audrey… she said she just wanted Ben to get help. She didn't want her family to get upset."

"I still don't believe it," Adam voices. "He lied to me. He said he was taking care of it."

"Well, that wasn't a lie now, was it?" Belle half laughs. "He was taking care of it. It's just… illegal, unethical, and morally irresponsible."

"Did you hear that?" Adam gazes towards the hallway.

"Hear what?" Charming asks.

He narrows his eyes before shouting, "Ben."

Belle and Charming look towards the hallway, before Ben slowly peeks out from it with an awkward smile, "Hey. What's going on?"

"Come here," he commands, and Ben eyes from the floorboards to him, shifting his feet, but he finds himself unable to move.

"It's okay, honey," his mother reassures. "We just need to ask some questions."

Ben slowly makes his way to the table, and Charming switches to the other side to get a better view of him. Ben eyes over them as he sits, "Am I in trouble?"

"Of course, not," his mother breathes. "We just need to hear your side of things."

"I, um." Ben finds his mind blank, "Which side of what?"

"Of Chad's story," Charming comments. "He says you told him you have a blood fetish, and you've been requesting him to do things for you."

"Okay." Ben straightens, "I never did anything he didn't consent to."

"Pressuring isn't consent," his mother reminds him.

He whispers, "I know."

"Then why have you been doing this to him?" she counters. He fails to speak, and she continues, "He's your friend. You've been friends for years. How could you do this to him?"

"I," Ben emphasizes, but then he lets out the breath and shakes his head.

"You what?" his father sternly questions.

Ben stares at his folded hands, "I couldn't stop thinking about him." before he peeks at their expressions. "Most people are sweet. He… It's different." Ben half laughs and reaches for his temple, "He drives me crazy."

"You're victim blaming now," his mother accuses.

Ben frowns at her, and after a moment of quiet, Charming speculates, "Was it just an excuse?" Ben turns to him. "Or is blood… is it more than food to you?"

"I don't know," his pitch raises. "How am I supposed to know?"

"It's your body," his mother points out.

"Well, sometimes the body can be wrong. Okay?" Ben panics. "You can't depend on something like that to—"

"Honey," she interrupts, and when his words halt, she taps his forehead and he tensely blinks. "The brain is part of the body too."

Ben cowers in his seat, "I think it's time for me to hide in the office."

"I think it's time you gave some straight-forward answers," his father asserts, and Ben folds his arms and eyes down. "You've had two feeding sessions this week. Can you really still not tell the difference, even when you're full?"

When Ben shakes his head, his mother inquires, "Is that why you broke up with Mal?"

"I didn't like thinking about her like that," he whispers.

"But you don't mind thinking about Chad like that?" his father counters.

Ben eyes off, "It doesn't make sense. That's not even what our fight was about."

"You said you didn't know what it was about," Charming reminds him.

Ben takes a moment, "I think I do now." before he shakes his head and meets their eyes. "I need to talk to him."

"You expect me to let you talk to my son," Charming's eyes widen, "after what you just admitted to us?"

"It's important," Ben insists.

"He doesn't want to talk to you," Charming reminds him.

"He'll want to see me for this," Ben insists. "Please."

He takes a minute, "I'll allow a supervised visit."

"It's private," Ben negates.

"You say you can't control yourself around him," his mother disbelieves. "If that's really the case, you need someone there to supervise."

"You," he immediately answers.

She laughs, "I didn't mean for you to pick."

"I'll allow it," Charming inserts.

"In the meantime," his father faces him. "How often do you drink?"

"I don't know." Ben's eyes shift, "I told you I don't keep track of it."

"An estimation," he reasons.

"Do we really need to talk about this?" he pleads.

"Yes." Ben looks down, as the tears intrude his eyes and his heart races. His father frustrates, "Just tell me. What is it? Once a week? Twice a week? What?"

"I don't know," Ben widens his eyes at him, before he breaks into sobs and lowers his head. He holds his arms tight, as he shakes and feels his face warm.

"Honey," his mother places a hand on his shoulder.

Adam urges, "Don't do that."

Belle gives him a long look, before she focuses back on Ben and moves his wet bangs out of his face. She lingers her hand there and observes his expression, waiting for him to calm, before he looks up and she moves her hand away. She smiles, "We're going to play a game."

"A game?" he manages.

"I'm going to hang a calendar in the kitchen," she explains. "Any time you… drink, I'd like you to put a red dot on that day."

"We need to take care of this now," Adam asserts.

Belle sighs but keeps eye contact with Ben, "Do you think you can do that for me?"

He nods, "Yeah." before he glances down. "I think so."

"Okay." She thinks, "Have you eaten anything today?"

"Um," he eyes away.

"Grab something from the kitchen," she interrupts. "We'll be leaving soon."

Ben merely shifts in his seat, "I'm not hungry." before he meets her eyes.

"You need to eat something," his father sternly says.

Ben widens his eyes at him, leaning towards him, "I'm not hungry."

"You know, it's no wonder you drink so often," his father complains. "It's not like you ever eat anything else."

Ben's expression falls, and Belle defends, "Adam. Please."

After he grumbles, Ben mumbles, "There's some weeks I don't drink at all."

"But you did skip both lunch and dinner last night," his mother reminds him, and when he doesn't respond, she reaches for his hand. He looks from it to her, and she softly says, "I would like it if you ate something. I want you in your right mind when you see Chad."

"Yeah. Okay." He eyes over them before standing from the table.

When he reaches the archway, Belle calls out, "Make it decent."

"What was that?" Adam furrows his eyebrows at her.

She faces him, "Which part?"

"All of it," his voice raises. "Starting with getting so close to him."

"I was trying to calm him," she reasons.

"You know why it calms him," he starts.

"Adam."

"And you still did it," he finishes.

"This is not the time nor place," she hisses.

"Why not?" Adam points a hand, "He knows about everything else now. Why not this?"

"Think of Ben," she asserts. "He must feel embarrassed enough."

"He's in love with you," Adam points at her, "and you're encouraging it."

"I'm not encouraging anything," she furiously whispers.

"And holding his hand," he counters. "What was that?"

"I was trying to get him to eat." She persists, "Shouldn't it be a good thing that I have this influence over him? That I can help him when he shuts down like that?"

"Not when you're connecting with him on such an inappropriate level," he condemns.

"Inappropriate," Belle disbelieves. "I've probably been the least affectionate mother one could be. The least I can do is let him know I care."

When Adam scoffs, Charming evenly interrupts, "I don't think Ben knows what he wants." They turn to him, and he explains, "Ben seems really confused by a lot of things right now, and you need to remember he's still a teenager. When I was his age something as simple as a pen and ink could influence me. I can't be any easier for him." Charming pauses, "And I know it doesn't explain everything, but children need affection and validation to build confidence and grow. If they can't get enough of it from their parents, they're going to look for it. I suspect it's why Chad dates so many girls. It's probably why Ben fixates on select people." He hesitates, "There is no replacement for a mother. You're close to the school, so he hasn't given up on getting that affection from you."

Belle partly smiles, "I appreciate what you're trying to do, Charming, but at this point I worry that may just be hopeful thinking." She turns to Adam and raises her eyebrows, "But he has never acted on it and he has been dating, so it's nothing you should have to make him feel guilty over."

"He should feel guilty," Adam voices. "You're his mother. He should be respecting you."

"He does respect me," Belle bypasses. "It's you he has a problem with." She meets his blue eyes, "What's this I hear about you showing him a scratch on the floor?"

He clears his throat, "I will tell you later."

Her eyebrows rise, "So, we can discuss that later, but we needed to embarrass Ben behind his back in front of his colleague now?" Adam stays silent, and she sighs before noticing Ben hurry through the dining room. "Hey," she shouts. He turns to her, and her mouth gapes in disbelief, "I told you to eat something." Ben holds up a jar of Nutella with a spoon in one hand and the two coconut drinks in the other. "You're not eating that by itself?"

His eyes shift, "It's how I always eat it."

"I said something decent," she complains. "Does that even have protein in it?"

"Chocolate always has protein and iron in it."

"And you can't just put some in a bowl," she frowns.

"I'll be having half now and half another day," Ben's frown deepens.

"And how much is that?" she inquires.

"The calories?" Ben asks, and she nods. "Two hundred for two tablespoons."

"And how much will you be having?" his father intrudes.

Ben looks at the label and wets his lips, before he faces them, "Two thousand and six hundred calories."

"That's more than a person is supposed to have a day," Charming gives a look.

Ben uncomfortably shifts before facing his mother, "Can I go now?"

"Yes," she sighs, before she shoes him away. "Go." He walks out of the room, and Belle shakes her head with wide, tired eyes, "I don't know how he does it. If I ate like that, I would be thicker than the dictionary."

"Didn't he just say he wasn't hungry?" Charming recalls.

"Yes," Adam answers, "but only protein is going to make him feel full. Eating a thousand empty calories is a good way for him to get it in if he's not hungry."

"Not nutritionally, though," Belle dismisses. "Empty calories can't be used. He should be storing them, but he's still so thin."

"Because he is using them," Adam counters. "His nutrients were already mostly taken care of with the blood. He's using the non-nutritional calories just to keep his weight up."

She rubs the back of her neck, "I don't like it."

"I don't either," Adam agrees. "He should be drinking less and eating more… You know, more meat, though. Not like… like this."

"Have you ever thought about a nutritionist?" Charming suggests.

Belle and Adam share a look, before they turn to him, "No."

He uncomfortably shifts his seating, "Alright, then."

* * *

"What's that?"

Ben's eyes widen as he reaches the main floor, "Evie."

Her eyebrows furrow, as she eyes the items in his hands, "Wouldn't it just be easier to use laxatives?"

"Laxatives?" Ben frowns.

"The things that—"

"I know what laxatives are," he interrupts. "Why are you asking me about them?"

"Because." She points from the Bai water, "You're using that." before she points to the Nutella. "To detox that."

Ben blankly stares at her, "Don't tell anyone."

"No. Of course, not," she laughs. "I just want to know why."

"Why what?"

"Wouldn't a laxative work better?" she inquires. "You have the money. It's not like you would have to steel them, so why don't you use them?"

He takes a minute, "Well, um. Laxatives are… You need to be twenty to buy them." before he scratches the back of his head. "And they're hard on the body. The more you use them, the less your body will work for itself."

"Does it work?" Evie points to the drink, "The antioxidants?"

"Well, um," Ben thinks, "the one I use for pizza does what I would think a laxative would, like make things go faster or, uh, run smoother…" He eyes from the white liquid to her, "But I only use this one with Nutella." He lifts a shoulder, "It's more… It usually kind of just makes things less… you know, solid."

She nods, "Hmm."

He faces her, "I didn't give you any ideas?"

Evie grins, "Don't worry. My problem isn't eating. It's not eating, so I don't have to deal with what you do." She places a hand on his shoulder, "Have fun with your diarrhea." before she moves past him.

Ben turns around to watch her leave up the other staircase, before the shock of her comment passes, he shakes his head, and continues to walk to his office. He opens the door and situates himself at his desk, before he turns on the news. He takes the lid off the Nutella, peels off the seal, and twists the cap off the antioxidant drink. An intense sensation settles on him. Why is he doing this? He takes a drink of the water, takes a spoonful of the spread into his mouth, and repeats. Thirty minutes later, he's a quarter the way through the jar, one water down, and it's time to use the bathroom.

* * *

\- Oh. By the way, I noticed that I had part of a month repeated, but even though I didn't fix that in older chapters, I think I continued it correctly. Things should be all good now.


	35. It's a Date

**It's a Date **

**(Tuesday Afternoon, July 9****th****)**

After Chad calls out, "Come in." he sees him open the door. "Ben?"

Ben steps into the room, and Chad pauses the show. "So," he faces him. "You love me." He watches Chad eye over at his mother, and Ben reassures, "Don't worry. She's not going to say anything."

Chad stands from the bed, narrowing his eyes at him, "And people think I'm an idiot."

"They think I'm pressuring you into sex," Ben disbelieves. "Someone had to supervise. You're lucky it's only her."

Chad leans forward, "And you're still an idiot." before he frustrates. "You'd have to be blind and deaf not to know."

"I know," Ben whispers.

"I told you," Chad steps forward. "Hell. I showed you. I kissed you, and you didn't even question it. Nice joke, Chad. Really?"

Ben wets his lips, "I may have been a little short-sighted."

"Blind and deaf," Chad sternly repeats.

"Is that what you're really upset about?" Ben questions. "It's not about me asking you to do things, is it? It's about me not noticing how much you… care about me."

He shakes his head, "You're fucking unbelievable." before he sternly eyes him. "Love, Ben. You're the only person that's ever made me feel real, and I would do anything for you. You know that. The least you can do is accept that and say the stupid word."

"Fine." Ben evenly responds, "You love me." and he lifts a shoulder. "What now? What are you hoping to gain from this?"

He shakes his head before meeting his hazel green eyes, "I just needed you to know."

"That's it?" Ben's eyebrows raise, but Chad doesn't respond. "Come on. You have to be expecting something to happen here."

"I guess," Chad hesitates, "I just wanted what we had but more—and more often."

"That's it?" he unsurely says.

"Obviously not, Ben," Chad sighs. "But you have a possessive girlfriend, and this thing is illegal. And you already told me there's no way it would ever get passed." He mumbles, "And God doesn't like it. My life gets worse the more I do this kind of thing." He faces him, "But I feel a lot better with you in it. I would at least like to spend more time with you."

"Then why leave the castle early?" Ben inquires. "Why get your father involved?"

"Because," Chad shouts, before the tears gleam in his eyes and he sniffles. "You…" He shakes his head, "I wanted to be more than just some boytoy to you, but as soon as I let you get that close to me, it was like I didn't even matter anymore… You didn't want me anymore."

Ben wets his lips, "I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

He shakes his head, "It doesn't matter. You're clearly not messed up like me, or else it wouldn't have taken so much to get you to see… I was stupid to think this could ever be anything, that I could ever mean anything."

"You do mean something," Ben counters, before he places a hand on his shoulder. "And if all you need is to spend more time with me, I can do that."

"Really?" Chad hopes.

"Yeah," Ben tries to smile, before he moves back Chad's curls. "I could never leave a mess as big as you."

Chad laughs, and he points a thumb towards the TV, "I was, uh, watching a science documentary. A, uh, show on parasites, if you'd like to watch it with me."

"It's not gory?" Ben concerns.

"No. Of course, not," Chad reassures. "Just a computer simulation here and there, but nothing too bad."

"Okay, then," Ben nods, and when Chad sits back onto the bed, he goes to sit next to him. "Oh. By the way…" Chad faces him, and he frowns, "I did kind of break up with Mal."

"It was the blood thing, wasn't it?" Chad assumes.

"Kind of. Yeah," he admits.

Chad chuckles, "I chose the perfect time to obey God." before he presses play. He feels a hand intertwine with his, and he eyes from it to Ben, "Thank you."

* * *

Belle lingers at the door, and after Adam leaves to the stairs, she turns to Ben, "The kiss wasn't your idea, was it?"

"It was Chad's," he confirms.

"But you took the blame," she inquires.

"I just couldn't take it anymore," Ben frowns. "All I knew was Chad had come up with it himself, and no matter what those reasons may have been, his parents just kept insisting that he couldn't have been such a horrible person." He nods, "It was easier to let them think that the atheist thought of it."

She smiles, "I'm so proud of you."

"You are?" Ben doubts.

"Well, of course." She explains, "A person should be judged by their actions, not their thoughts." She hesitates, "But what you're doing for Chad, you know it's okay if you're not comfortable doing it for him, don't you?"

"We're not doing a lot more than what we did before," Ben informs. "And if it doesn't mean anything more to me, why should I stop it just because it makes him happier?"

"You can distinguish that," she notices. "That's good. Too many people assume a relationship is one thing, when in fact both people may feel differently about it."

Ben takes a moment, "Mother." before he faces her. "I had this weird dream yesterday." He unsurely questions, "Did we talk about anything or anything?" as his eyes shift.

She hesitates, "I did check in on you."

"And?" he feels his heart speed up.

"Well," she glances down, "you were a bit incoherent."

"Oh," Ben breathes with relief. "Yeah. That's… That's what I thought."

After some silence, she suggests, "You know, I've been thinking…" He meets her eyes, and she straightens, "I miss the theater. Would you like to go sometime?"

He frowns, "Would Father be there?"

She half laughs, "Adam never understand that type of thing. I think it would be better if it were just the two of us. It would be calm. Different."

"It would be nice," Ben agrees.

"How about Friday?" she suggests. "We can have dinner after to discuss it."

"Um," Ben thinks. "Yeah." He concerns, "But can you really plan like that? I mean, if Father isn't—"

"Adam doesn't need his hand held," she interrupts. "We'll have our phones on silent, and if he doesn't like that I left, I will just have to remind him that he married an independent woman and that he has no right to keep me here."

Ben's brows raise, "Okay." before he unsurely faces her. "So… Friday, then?"

"It's a date," she confirms, and Ben watches as she walks away. He can't help but stare; however, when she reaches the top of the stairs, she offers a smile, and he quickly turns away, scratching the back of his head.

"Commit any crimes recently?" Ben hears, and he frowns at Evie's grin.

"Crimes?"

"You feel tense," she notes.

"Oh, um." His mouth opens, before he realizes, "I think I got a date with my mother."

"Oh." She gestures, "So, you asked her out, then?"

"No," Ben exasperates. "She—" He stares at her, "Why do you think I asked her?"

She snickers, "Ben. You do have a type, you know."

He thinks, "I thought my type was brown hair."

"Curly," Evie corrects. "Brown is secondary, but mostly you like smart, proactive people with curly hair."

"Proactive?" Ben questions.

"Productive," she supplements. "Outgoing. Goal-oriented. Gets things done." Ben doesn't speak, and Evie comments, "But tell me, I am right, aren't I? You like her."

He lets out a breath and shakes his head, "I don't know how I feel about anyone or anything anymore." He hesitates, "Some people just smell good… which is weird, but I don't know who I like how."

Evie nods, "What about me?"

"Um." Ben slowly responds, "You don't have a smell. It's the…" and he points to the top of his neck.

"Perfume?" she offers.

He thinks, "I guess. It just covers it."

"Do you need to smell someone to like them?" she questions.

"I've never thought about it." His eyes narrow, "Maybe?"

"So, with me and my curls, we're safe, then," Evie examines.

Ben frowns at her, "Yes, Evie. You're safe." before he shakes his head. "You're more than safe." His eyes widen, "I need you to do something for me."

She laughs, "And what's that?"

"Keep me as far away from people as you can."

"What?" her eyebrows scrunch.

"Look." He steps closer to her, "See how close we are right now." before he places his hands on her arms. "And I am not thinking anything weird at all."

"Okay," she unsurely responds.

"You have the power," Ben smiles. "If you ever see me about to do anything stupid, you can stop me."

"How am I supposed to do that?" Evie places a hand on her hip. "I'm not even allowed in the East Wing."

"Right," Ben's expression falls, and he lifts a shoulder. "Never mind." His eyes shift, "I'm sure everything will be fine."

Evie frowns, "What about your date with Belle?"

"Damn it," Ben shuts his eyes, before he uses a long swear phrase in French and Evie fails to stifle a laugh. "This isn't funny. I'm going to mess it up."

"How are you going to mess it up?"

"Because," Ben panics. "She probably has this stupid thought that if I can make Chad happy without making it something, then I can be happy with her without making it something. But, no. It's not going to be like that. It's going to be weird, and I'm going to make it weird."

"Well, yeah," Evie makes a face. "If you keep acting weird." She places her hands on his shoulders, "Tell me. What are you guys doing?"

"We're seeing a play," Ben tries to remember. "We're having dinner, and we're talking."

"Okay. Good," Evie smiles. "You just need to remember that." Ben lets out a long breath, and she rolls her eyes as she releases him, "Seriously. Can I go to the library?"

"You can't keep asking me that." Ben pinches the bridge of his nose. "Hell." He faces her, "The library is two floors tall." before he places a hand on her back. "Let me show you." He guides her to the left and points, "You see this?" before they enter the hallway. "We go down here, and this wall here? We open it. We open it, and it turns into a door, and then we walk through." He shuts it behind them, "And now we're in the book room."

She smiles at him, "Thank you."

He sighs, "Just don't get… don't let my father see you. Okay?"

"Yeah," she seriously nods. "Of course."

"Okay, good." He wets his lips, "And Evie?"

"Yeah?" she asks.

He hesitates, "Maybe don't tell Mal about my mother?" before he glances down. "I might just be… Like I said, I don't know how I feel about anything, because my eating is weird and all that. And I don't want anyone to think I would think about my mother like that. You know, it's just… It could be nothing, and I don't want people to think it's something if it's not."

"Ben," Evie gives him a look. "How would that even come up?"

"I don't know." He squirms, "Maybe she asks where I am Friday, and you say I'm with my mother on a date?"

"You still can't wrap your mind around it, can you?" Evie notices.

"It's weird," he cringes. "What am I even like…"

After he makes a disgruntled sound, Evie answers, "How about what a son would do with his mother? You know, just like… I don't know. Just act like you're five and she's reading you a book. You two talk about it at dinner."

He gulps and nods, "Right." before he pulls at his collar. "Is it hot in here?"

Evie places the back of her hand to his cheek, "Maybe you should make up with Mal."

Ben takes her hand off from him, "Mal's not mine anymore. She's yours."

"I messed around with her when she was with you," Evie's eyes widen. "Don't you want to get back at me?"

"No," Ben shakes his head. "Not really."

"Come on," Evie doubts.

"No," he asserts. "Okay? I don't like blood, I don't like sex, and I don't like thinking about it."

Evie's eyes narrow, "You're just one of those guys who hate sex because you like it."

"There's better things than sex," he counters.

"Like blood," she offers.

"No," he shouts.

"Then what?"

He falters, "I… I don't know." and Evie's eyebrows raise. "But I would know if I wasn't thinking about it all the time, and I want that, that chance. I'm not going to get that with Mal."

"So, what?" Evie questions. "You're just not going to have sex or blood for the rest of your life." She sees his expression, "You know that's not possible."

"I can try," he counters.

"I bet you won't last a week," she challenges, before she lifts a finger. "No. A day."

"I," he places a hand to his head. "I can do a day."

Evie observes him, "If you don't want Mal, then you need to take your medicine."

"I don't want medicine," he denies, before he solves, "I'll have ice cream."

"Okay. Good," Evie nods him out.

His eyes shift, "I don't want ice cream. It will make me feel sick."

"Then take your pills," Evie smiles.

"I don't want the pills."

She gives him a look, "What other option do you have, go sit down while I read, and you can slowly die in front of me?"

"Okay," Ben slowly nods. "That sounds good."

Evie turns him around and pushes him towards the door, "Hades' hell. God." before he enters the hallway and faces her. "I'm calling Mal, and you're going to take your fucking pills."


	36. ES

**ES **

**(Wednesday Afternoon, July 10****th****)**

"Where's Ben?" Adam irritably comments at the table.

"He didn't get to sleep until seven," Belle informs. "Let's let him rest."

"He needs to be eating," Adam asserts.

"And he will," she calmly responds. "I'll make sure of it."

He grumbles, and Belle turns back to the kids, "Evie. I want you to pick something."

She grimaces as she eyes over the greasy bacon, yolk eggs, and white, buttered toast, before she slowly replies, "I'm not hungry."

"Everyone is just so full all the time," Belle sighs, before she points her fork at the milk. "Drink some for me, please."

"Oh, no thank you," Evie smiles, as she eyes from the milk to her. "I'm not thirsty."

"Let me ask you something personal," Belle sets down her fork before staring her down. "When was the last time you got your period?"

"Oh, no," Evie grins. "I don't get that."

"You should be by now," Belle's eyes widen. "If you're not, it's because you're at such a low weight that your body thinks it wouldn't be able to carry a baby."

"Good." Evie counters, "I don't want kids."

"You say that now."

"I'll adopt," she solves.

"You're at high risk for bone loss," Belle sternly says, and Evie falters. "If you don't start eating right, you will be facing things you shouldn't need to worry about until your forties or fifties." Evie looks down. "You're seventeen. You have such a long life ahead of you. Do you really want to cripple the body you will need to survive?"

Evie eyes up and leans forward, "I'd rather be dead than fat."

"Evie," Mal sadly whispers.

"I," her mouth gapes, before she pleads to Belle, "I didn't mean that."

"That's it," Belle faces her. "If you're not going to eat, you're not going to have the privilege of participating in table talk." She nods to the hall, "You may go."

Evie sits for a long moment, holding her breath, "Yeah." before she stands from her seat.

After Mal watches Evie leave, she darts her eyes to Belle, "That's your brilliant plan, to leave her alone?"

"If she wants to be social," Belle reasons, "then she can come back and eat."

"But she won't." Mal yells, "You've just abandoned her. That voice is going to tell her no one cares about her but it and that it's the only one she can trust."

She frowns, "People keep mentioning this voice." and Mal shakes her head before abruptly standing from her seat and rushing after Evie.

Belle looks over at Carlos, "You talked about the voice before."

"Yeah." he unsurely responds.

"So," she prompts. "What is it?"

"What it sounds like," he points out.

"Explain, please," she sighs.

"I don't know." Carlos irritably responds, "A voice that tells her what to do." before he waves it off. "Ask Ben. He'll know."

She nods, "He did take that psychology class."

"Right. That too," Carlos remembers, before he points to the chocolate muffins. "Can I have those?"

"You can have one," she slowly warns, before she scans the table. "After you eat some eggs." She points, "There's scrambled eggs with ham, over easy, and deviled."

"Devil?" Carlos shocks.

"What?" Jay grins, as he waves one in front of Carlos's face. "Afraid Hades will want to deal with you personally?"

"No," he mumbles. "I'd just rather not meet Cerberus, is all."

Jay gives him a look, "I thought you got over your fear of dogs."

"It has three heads," Carlos panics, "and any one of them could eat me."

"The path to the afterlife is the same for everyone," Belle informs. "You don't reach Heaven or Hell until after the fates weigh your heart."

Carlos gives her a look, "Aren't you supposed to be an atheist?"

"No," Adam answers for her. "That's just Ben."

"Whatever doubts I had," Belle answers, "were vanquished with the discovery and imprisonment of Hades."

"Hades is a cool guy," Jay recalls. "When I was a kid, I'd steal food from his restaurant, and whenever he caught me, he handed me a bag of scraps on the way out the door."

"Yeah," Carlos drags. "What exactly did Hades do to get imprisoned?"

Belle gives him a look, "How about taking a girl from her family and holding her captive in his castle for three months each year?"

"You mean, kind of like what he did to you," Carlos points from Adam to her.

"That was different," Belle excuses. "My father and I trespassed onto his property, and the laws weren't as descriptive back then."

"But wouldn't they have been even less descriptive when Hades—" Jay shoves a muffin into Carlos's mouth, and he chews, "Okay." He manages to get it down, "I'm shutting up now."

Jay questions, "How does Ben explain the Greek gods?"

"Oh," Belle's brows raise. "They're not gods. They're just evolutionary mountain men."

"Sounds like Ben," Jay acknowledges.

"But it had to have come from somewhere," Carlos counters.

"Ben believes, as I once did," Belle explains, "that it's just something humans created to make themselves feel better; however, every religion is more or less the same. Even the ones that say there is only one God claim there are other gods."

"Charming's family believes God has visited different people in different forms," Adam continues. "So, it doesn't even contradict the, uh, Hind… What was that again?"

"Hinduism, dear," Belle answers.

"Right," Adam nods. "Ben just couldn't get past the whole slavery-genocide thing."

"Certainly not a God to be worshipped," Belle affirms, "but I am a true believer now."

* * *

Mal halts at the archway, when she notices Ben staring into the fridge, "Hey."

Ben glances at her before taking half a pound of hamburger from the fridge, "Hey."

"How far can I come in?"

He turns back to her, "Um." before eyeing the space between them. "Just… Stay behind the…" He points to the island counter and unsurely smiles, "Maybe?"

She nods and walks towards him, "Do we need to talk about yesterday?"

"No," Ben slowly answers, before he sighs and faces her. "Do you see this?"

Mal looks at the half roll of meat, "The hamburger?"

"It looks so gross," Ben complains, as he examines the blood stains in the Ziploc bag. "It's like it went bad or something."

She shakes her head, "Looks fine to me."

"I can't believe my mother said to have this," he continues, grabbing a pan before squeezing the hamburger into it and cutting it with the turner. He turns the heat on and tries to flatten the meat slices, "It's not squaring."

"Squaring?"

"See how thick it is?" he shows her. "It won't square."

"Oh," Mal laughs in realization. "You mean, squish."

Ben's eyes shift, "Whatever." before he refocuses on the hamburgers. "It looks weird."

"Ben," Mal's eyes widen. "I'm sure it will be fine."

He shakes his head, "There's no juice. It's all gone."

"It's still meat," Mal points out.

"It's not the same," Ben complains. "It's going to be dry and…" Mal watches him turn the thick burgers over, before she walks around the island counter. His eyes widen as he turns to her, "What are you doing?"

She takes a hamburger out of the pan and bites into it, "Ben." before she swallows it. "It's fine." She hands it to him, "Try it." and she tilts her head as she notices his eyes dilate. "Ben?" The turner falls from his hand to the floor, before he takes her hand, stares down her wrist, and wets his lips. "Ben," Mal warns.

"You smell so good," Ben whispers.

"Ben," Mal eyes over, "you're going to burn the hamburgers." He steps towards her, and she moves back, "Ben. Don't you want to check on them." He backs her against the corner counters, and she feels his breath on the right of her neck. "You're going to make a fire." Her eyes widen when he sucks on her jugular, and she drops the hamburger, pressing him away from her. He tightens his grip on her, she sees her vision change to inferred, and she manages to push him off. He steps towards her, and she slaps him.

He steps back, seething, before he reaches for his warm cheek and sees the blood on his fingers. "Mal?" Ben sadly says, before he offers her his shining puppy eyes.

Mal looks over him, whispering, "I'm sorry." before running out of the room.

Ben eyes down, sighing as he picks up the dropped burger, moves to toss it into the pan, and turns the pan over the garbage can to discard of the burnt meat. "Ugh." The pan bangs down on the back burner, and Ben leans on the counter as he places his face into his hand. He's messed up, and he messed up bad.

* * *

"Mal?" Belle places her hands on her shoulder to stop her in the hall. "What's wrong?"

"I—" Mal turns back towards the kitchen, heavily breathing.

"Honey," Belle places a hand to Mal's head, and when she turns back, she cautiously examines her glowing green eyes. "It's okay, Mal. Just breathe."

"I— He—"

"Breathe for me," Belle instructs, and as Mal's breathing settles, her eyes fade to jade. "Now," she eyes her, "what happened?"

"Ben," Mal points towards the kitchen. "He—"

"Mal," she gasps, as she takes her hand.

She darts her eyes from the blood on her nails to her, "I think Ben might need a good dinner, like a steak or something?"

"Are you saying he tried to hurt you?" Belle clarifies.

She shakes her head, "I really don't want to talk about it." before she crosses her arms.

"I knew that Ben's appetite has been increasing," she sighs, "but I didn't think—"

"What?" Mal's eyes widen. "That it was this bad?"

"I'll talk to him," Belle reassures, as she places a hand to the back of Mal's shoulder. "Just go to your room. I can take care of this." She watches her eyes shift, "Mal?"

She sniffles, "I was just really wanting milk."

"Do you want me to get the milk for you?"

She shallowly breathes, "You don't have to."

"I'm going in there, anyway," Belle reminds her. "Just tell me, Whole or fat free?"

"Whole?" Mal's voice shakes.

"Okay," she smiles. "I'll get you a nice, big glass. Alright?"

"Yeah," Mal nods.

She lightly pushes on her back, "I'll meet you in a minute." Mal trudges into the room, and Belle strides down the hall, through the dining room, and into the kitchen. "Ben?" He hesitantly turns, and she steps towards him. "Honey," she sadly breathes, as she gestures to the claw marks on his cheek.

He eyes away from her, "I think I might have tried to eat a cat…"

"Looks like the cat wasn't too fond of that," Belle raises her eyebrows, as she brushes her hand over the cuts; however, when he seethes and turns his head down, she takes a step back. "Honey. What happened?" He shakes his head. "I got Mal's side. I want to hear yours."

"I don't know what happened." Ben widens his eyes at her, "Okay? The hamburger wasn't right, her wrist was in my face, and…" His head lowers, and his voice quiets, "I lost it. I completely lost it." He gulps, tears intruding his eyes, as he faces her, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

"Ben," she evenly responds. "It's okay. Just tell me what you need." What he needs? He shakily breathes as the tears flow and sting the cuts. He doesn't know what he needs, but whatever he needs, it's all of it. "Honey?" He looks up at her, but then his eyes move down her curls to her neck. He pushes her to the island counters, and his heart pounds as he holds her, bites into her soft skin, and the sweet cantaloupe flows into his mouth. "Ben!" He breaks from his thoughts and meet her eyes again. "Are you hearing me?" she asserts.

"Um," Ben bides time.

"It's okay to ask for help," she reminds him. "All you need to do is ask."

"Ask?" he unsurely responds.

"Of course," she answers. "We're here for you. I'm sure even Mal would help."

"Really?" he surprises.

"Well, as a carnivore, she would have a good excuse to go to the butcher for you," his mother mentions. "We could give her a list and some money, and she could go for you."

Ben takes a minute, "The butcher shop is on main street."

"So?"

"So," Ben thinks, "so is the wine store. Is it really a good idea to send an alcoholic down there with that much money?"

Belle nods, "It's something we would need to discuss, certainly." Ben doesn't speak, and she suggests, "Next time Mrs. Potts goes down there, we can add blood to her list. If anyone asks, she can say it's just for some traditional recipe."

"Traditional recipe?" Ben doubts.

"Well, I can't think of any French ones at the moment," she acknowledges, "but there's at least half a dozen German ones she can claim to try."

"Mother." Ben meets her brown eyes, "I really don't want to talk about this."

"It needs to be talked about," she frowns. "What you just did to Mal—"

"Won't happen again," Ben finishes

"Ben," she begins.

"I promise you," he widens his eyes, "I'm fine." He lets out a breath and glances off, "I just need…" He frowns at her, "I need a little space. Can't I just have that?"

She takes a moment, "If you need to eat—"

"Then I'll write it on the calendar," he sternly finishes.

Belle nods, "Alright, then. If you've got that handled…"

Ben watches her walk over to the fridge, "What are you doing?"

"Mal wanted milk," she answers.

He watches her pour it into the large glass, "You know I didn't mean to?"

She puts the milk away, picks up the glass, and faces him, "You have to remember where she comes from, Ben. If you love this girl, you will treat her respectfully, because you will not get a second chance with her. She's been abused before. She won't let it happen again."

Ben glances down, "She's not my girlfriend."

"And she's not going to be your friend much longer either," Belle remarks, "if you keep acting like this to her."

"I'm sorry," Ben whispers.

"Don't be sorry," she counters. "Be better. Remember, actions speak louder than words." He lowers his head, unable to find any, and she retreats from the kitchen down over into the hallway before knocking on Mal's door. There's no response, and Belle slowly opens the door. There's no one inside, but the bathroom door hangs open, and she sets the milk onto the bedside table before nearing the sniffling sound. "Mal?" she questions, before she opens the door more and sees her in her underwear, lying in the pink water. "God. Mal!"

She kneels in front of the tub, and Mal tiredly looks at her, "Belle?" She gets the first aid kit from under the sink and takes the gauze out of it. "What's wrong with me?"

Belle wraps the white cloth over the laceration on Mal's right wrist, "What do you mean?"

"There's something about me," she whispers. "Guys… That's all I am: some slut."

She shuts her eyes, and Belle stresses, "Mal. Stay awake."

"Mal?" Ben rushes over to her, "Mal? What did you do?"

Mal moves her uncovered wrist towards him, as she places a hand to his cheek, "Take me. I know you want to."

He grips her wrist, "No, Mal. I want you to live." but his stern expression falls when the dizzying scent hits him hard with a stab to the stomach.

Belle hears it growl, "Call ES." but when Ben releases Mal's wrist, he stares at the blood on his hand. She finds a washcloth, wiping his hand clean, and when he faces her, she seriously meets his eyes, "Call ES, now."

He stands and turns back into the bedroom, pressing the symbol on his cellphone, before he hears the automated message and the man answers, "This is ES."

"Yes," he hurriedly replies. "This is King Ben. My girlfriend is hurt." He turns back to the bathroom, "She lost a lot of blood."

"Are you at the castle?"

"Yes."

"Okay," he calmly comments. "Emergency Services is on the way. Can you tell me what happened?"

"She—She," he shakily breathes. "She cut herself, and…"

"Where did she get cut?"

"I—" His mind is blank, and he gulps as he sees her slowly fading. "Under her hand."

"On her hand?" he questions.

"No. Under," Ben asserts, before he speedily says, "Her wrists. She cut her wrists in the bath. You need to help her."

"Hold on." Ben's breathing increasing, and the tears intrude his eyes as he hears, "Does anyone know French. It's the king."

"King Ben," the new speaker comments in French. "This is Ethan."

"My girlfriend needs help," Ben worries.

"Emergency Services are on the way," he reassures. "Is she conscious?"

Ben hears Mal mutter to his mother, "I think so."

"Can you tell me what happened?"

He shakes his head, "She cut her wrists. My mother wrapped them."

"Is she suicidal?"

"It's my fault," Ben whimpers. "She wasn't comfortable with it, and I did it anyway."

He pauses, "My king, are you saying you sexually assaulted your girlfriend?"

"Please, help her," Ben pleads.

"ES is almost there," Ethan informs. "Can you give a specific location?"

"We're in the West Wing," he manages. "How long 'til you get here?"

"We're one minute out," he answers. "They should arrive any second."

Ben moves back into the bathroom, sets his phone down, and takes a towel from the rack. "What are you doing?" his mother asks.

"Get up," he instructs.

"Excuse me?"

"They can't see her like this," he asserts. "Get up."

Belle stands up and gets out of the way, as she watches Ben spread the towel down on the floor, move Mal from the tub to the towel, and wrap the blue fabric over her. Mal's eyes are shut, as though asleep. "She's lost so much blood."

"Don't remind me," Ben bypasses, before he picks her up and carries her through the door. He hears slams and stomps, "They're here."

"They're not going to have her blood type," his mother worries, and he gapes at her. "She's the only member of her species, and she's coldblooded. There's no way to tell how a transfusion would take."

"In here," Ben hears the medic, and he watches as the two enter the room. "Set her down on here."

Ben places Mal on the gurney, and the man questions, "Are you riding with?"

"Yes," Ben's eyes widen.

"Follow us."

Ben looks at his mother, and she nods to the door, "Go. I'll meet you there."

"Bring Evie," Ben stresses, before his mother nods again and he follows the medics out.


	37. I Wish I was Dead

**I Wish I was Dead **

**(Wednesday Afternoon, July 10****th****)**

When the grey-haired doctor enters the waiting room, Ben stands from his seat, "Dr. Roberts. How is she?"

"Mal has been stabilized," he frowns.

Ben lets out a breath of relief, but Belle observes, "That's not it, is it?"

Ben looks from her to him, and he informs, "Under normal circumstances, we could let her rest until her body replenishes her own blood supply."

"But?" Ben prompts.

"The body uses blood to regulate the distribution of body heat," he concerns.

"She's losing heat faster," Ben realizes.

"Without a transfusion," he informs, "she's not going to be able to retain heat very well."

Belle relays the information to Evie, and she whispers, "It would be just like when she was sick."

"And that was just three days," Ben recalls, before he turns back to the doctor. "She isn't going to last two weeks like this."

His blue eyes meet him, "There is something."

He shakes his head, "Well, what is it?"

"There wasn't an exact match," Dr. Roberts informs, "but we did find someone with similar markers in the database."

"Really?" Ben hopes.

"That's wonderful news," Belle breathes.

"Her body may not accept the transfusion," he warns, "but it's the closest blood type we could find."

"Well, who is it?" Ben asserts.

Dr. Roberts hesitates, "You don't happen to know General Li's daughter?"

Ben's jaw drops, "Hell no."

"If you don't know her," he starts.

"No," Ben holds up a hand. "I know her." He turns to his mother and Evie in disbelief, "Lonnie. Why is it always Lonnie?"

"What about Lonnie?" Evie's eyebrows scrunch.

"She has Mal's blood type," Belle interprets.

"Not the same blood type," Dr. Roberts corrects. "She just has similar markers, distinctions that normally indicates what someone is as a species."

"She has the same markers?" Evie frowns.

"Not all of them." He nods, "But most of them."

"But Lonnie's human," Belle comments in confusion, before she turns to Ben.

"She is," he confirms in stress.

"Maybe she has a recessive set of genes," the doctor solves, and they turn to him. "Whatever she is, General Li's daughter is our only candidate for a transfusion if you really believe Mal won't survive more than a few days in this condition."

"I can call her," Ben informs.

The doctor nods, "Make sure she hurries."

* * *

"You self-centered ass," Ben hears, before he turns and notices the muscular teen head towards him.

"Who called Mal's brother?" Ben softly says, as his eyes widen.

"Not me," Evie hurries.

Ben looks at his mother, before Jay pushes him, "You think that because you're king, you can do anything you want?"

"No," Ben denies.

He grips his shirt, "No. You just thought you could use Mal, because she was your girlfriend and you could do to her whatever you wanted."

"No," Ben disbelieves. "I—I just…"

When Jay raises a fist, Belle moves forward to grab his wrist and place a hand on Ben's shoulder, eyeing between them, "That's enough! You're here to support Mal, not to fight each other. Am I clear?"

Jay lowers his fist but continues to glare at Ben, "You're the reason she's in here."

Ben gulps, glancing down, "I know." before the tears intrude his eyes. "It's because of this that I broke up with her in the first place. I thought she would be safe."

Jay emotionlessly eyes him, "Clearly, you were wrong." and he continues to stare at him as he goes to sit next to Evie.

Ben looks away from him, and he fearfully whispers, "You called him?"

"You know they're like family," she reasons.

"Which is why you should have waited for the transfusion," Ben worries. "Now, he's going to kill me."

She sighs, "You're exaggerating."

"Am I?" Ben offers an intense look. "On the Isle it's kill or be killed."

"Well, they're not on the Isle anymore," she dismisses, "and if Jay wants to stay in Auradon, he will behave." Ben anxiously eyes off, but when she places a hand on the back of his head to lower it and kiss his forehead, he lets out a calming breath and shut his eyes. "You're going to be okay. Mal's going to be okay." He grumbles, and she places her hands on his shoulders, "Everything's going to be just fine."

Jay crosses his arms, "Can I kill him?"

"No," Evie slowly responds. "I think killing the king would qualify as bad behavior and get you sent back to the Isle."

"I don't care." He narrows his eyes at Ben, "I still want to kill him."

"I don't think Mal would like that," she warns.

"I'd be doing her a favor," Jay counters. "He should be the one in there, not her."

"And Mal would still be blaming herself," Evie adds.

"I just can't stand him," Jay vents. "He has this whole good king act, and then behind closed doors he's just—"

"Some monster?" Evie finishes.

"At least on the Isle we didn't have to hide who we are."

"Speak for yourself," she mumbles. "Everyone there thought I was weak, because I believed in love and never fought my mother off."

"You couldn't fight your mother," Jay reminds her. "She could throw knives without even touching them."

"My point is," Evie continues, "I only survived, because I was under Mal's protection." She turns to him, "Ben's been good to me. You're not going to hurt him."

"He hurt Mal," Jay focuses on him, and Ben scratches his head before looking away again. "Look at him. It would be so easy."

"I said no, Jay," Evie furiously whispers. "He didn't mean to hurt Mal. You hear me? He loves her. You know that."

Jay watches Ben eye down away from Belle, "He loves his mother more."

"Well, true," Evie notices the tension, before she uneasily grins, "but it's not like he would ever like…"

"Have sex with her," Jay finishes. "I bet he's thought about it. I bet he would think about it with his own kids."

"Jay," Evie hisses.

"We should just kill him now, so no one else gets hurt." Jay plans, "I could take him into the bathroom to talk, strangle him… watch him try to bite me, and he'd waste the last breath he has by growling at me."

"Jay," Evie sternly remarks.

"That sounds good." Jay stands, "I'm doing that."

He starts to walk over to Ben, and Evie hurries after him, "Jay!"

"Hey." Ben turns around, and Jay suggests, "Why don't we go to the bathroom to talk?"

Evie places a hand on his arm, "Jay."

He gives her a look, "I just want to talk to him."

"What?" her thin eyebrows furrow.

Jay turns back to Ben and nods over to the restrooms, "You coming?"

"Jay." Evie says louder, "Mal wouldn't want this." and Belle eyes between the boys in concern. "Jay. She would tell you not to."

"Well, she can't, can she?" Jay yells at Evie, and Evie silences. He inches towards Ben with wide eyes, "Because, he took her from us."

"Jay," Evie moves her hand to his shoulder. "Mal is still alive."

"You killed her," his eyes pinpoint at him.

"Jay." Ben takes a step back and lifts a hand, "Hear me out."

He grabs Ben's wrist and pulls him towards him, "You're going to pay for this!"

"Stop it," someone steps between them, and she pushes them apart and to the ground.

Jay reaches for his head, before he notices the black-haired girl standing above him, "Lonnie? Is that you?"

She gasps, "Would someone like to tell me what's going on here?"

Jay jumps to his feet and points at Ben, "Why don't you ask him?"

Lonnie sadly looks at him, "Ben?"

Ben scratches his forehead, "Right. Uh." before he wets his lips, stands, and steps towards her.

She watches his mouth open and then shut, his eyes lowering, "Ben?"

He gulps and faces her, his heart beating faster, as his eyes shine and he slowly confesses, "I assaulted Mal, and she tried to kill herself." She eyes over him in disbelief, and he lowers his head, "Sorry. I…" The tears fall to his cheeks, and he meets her dark brown eyes, shaking his head, "I didn't mean to. I—" He gulps, and he places a hand to his head.

"Honey?" his mother concerns.

"I…" His eyes slowly open, "Where's the… water?" before he walks past everyone towards the restrooms. He takes out the tic-tac case and dumps a few pills into his hand, before he brings them to his mouth and takes in water from the fountain.

"Ben?" He hears her voice but takes another drink instead of responding. She steps towards him, "Are you okay?"

He turns to her, "What? Mal didn't tell you how sick I am?"

"What?" Lonnie questions.

"I should be dead," Ben frustrates. "I wish I was dead."

"Ben," he hears her exasperate.

Ben gapes at her, "Mother." and he notices the tears flow to her eyes as she brings a hand to her mouth. "Mother." He shakes his head, "I didn't mean it. I…" He sighs and whispers, "I'm sorry."

She widens her eyes and steps forward, "Don't you dare be sorry." before she shakes her head, hugs him, and sighs. "You have such a long life ahead of you."

"It's going to be too hard," he whispers.

She lets go and meets his hazel green eyes, "You can make it."

"I'm just…" He wets his lips, "I'm sick of being sick. I'm sick of… of everything."

"The doctor said it will pass," she reminds him. "Life will get easier."

"I'm miserable. I make everyone else miserable." Ben shakes his head, "What's the point if life just always completely sucks?"

"How about to keep your father off the throne?" she seriously suggests.

"I want Chad to be king," Ben immediately replies.

"Pardon?"

"If I die, I want Chad to take the crown from me," Ben meets her warm brown eyes. "The people are important to him, and he cares about what people think of him. He would feel accountable for his actions. He would be good to them."

His mother takes a moment, "We should meet with the lawyer to legally write you a will, should you…" She straightens up, "Should you die."

"Thank you," Ben frowns.

She sighs, "You're welcome." before she shoes him away. "Go, now. I need a minute."

He nods; however, after he leaves, Lonnie steps towards her, "Did you just say you're seeing a lawyer about a will, like a death will?"

Belle faces her, "You shouldn't translate languages you don't speak."

"Well, are you?" she asserts, but Belle doesn't answer. "You're giving him an excuse to kill himself. How could you do that?"

"Ben is ill," Belle sternly eyes her. "He doesn't need an excuse to die." She deeply frowns, "It may just happen anyway."

"What?" Lonnie falters.

Belle looks over her, "I'm surprised no one's told you."

Lonnie shakes her head, "I've had my own stuff." before she meets her eyes. "I could have misinterpreted something."

"Well, now you know," she settles.

"So, Ben," she makes sure. "He's like… terminally ill?"

"It's only terminal until it's not," Belle evenly expresses; however, even though she'd kept her eyes open, the tears slip to her cheeks, and when she shuts her eyes, even more fall. "He's made it so far," she whispers, placing one arm over her stomach and her other hand to her mouth. "He can't just give up now."

"Your Highness," Lonnie starts, but then she sees the doctor behind Belle.

"Lonnie Li?"

She frowns at him, "Yes?" and Belle wipes the tears from her face before turning towards Dr. Roberts.

"Are you at least sixteen?" he questions.

"Yes," she confirms.

He hands her the clipboard, "If you agree to the transfusion, you need to sign these." She immediately places the pen to the paper. "And on the next page." She signs that one as well, hands it back to him, and he smiles, "We're ready for you. Come with me, please."

Lonnie looks back at Belle, Belle nods, and she faces the doctor again, "Okay."

* * *

\- At this point, I'm going to have to highly recommend that you read **Side Problems: In the Pack**, if you haven't already. At the very least, read the corresponding date to this chapter. You're going to miss half of Ben's story if you don't.


	38. The Usual

**The Usual **

**(Wednesday Evening, July 10****th****)**

"Good Evening, King Ben," the brunette smiles.

"It's just Ben," he reminds her.

"Policy says I need to use your title," she informs.

His eyes narrow, "Since when?"

"Since a waiter informally addressed Queen Leah."

Belle half laughs, "She always did like to play the victim."

The waitress looks back at Ben, "If you don't mind me asking…" and she unsurely points to her face.

Ben touches the scratches on his right cheek, "Right." before he half smiles. "Cats don't like to be touched, I guess."

Her eyebrows raise, "A cat?"

"Did I say cat?" Ben enunciates. "I meant dragon."

She grins, "Trouble in paradise?"

Ben frowns, "You could say that."

"Well, maybe I can make you feel better." Bridget places the pen over her clipboard, "Would you like the usual?"

"The usual?" Ben unsurely responds. "Uh… no." He falters, "Just a steak and, um, a chicken basket with Diet Coke." He faces his mother, "Would you like mozzarella sticks?"

"Sure," she smiles. "And a salad with milk."

"Right," Ben turns back to Bridget. "So, um, mozzarella sticks too."

"So, the usual, then?" she offers an amused look.

Ben grumbles, "Yes."

"Would you like macadamia nut cookies with that?"

"Yes," he slowly admits, before he frowns at her. "She's going to want coconut milk."

She jots it down, before her sky-blue eyes meet him, "Did you want to try the juice?"

"The juice?" Ben questions.

"Before," she reminds him, "you said you might want to try the juice next time, which would be this time."

"Oh!" Ben recalls, "The juice." before he darts his eyes from his mother to her and awkwardly smiles. "Uh… not this time."

She nods, "Will that be all?"

"Yes," Belle answers for him. "Thank you."

Bridget nods, "I will be right back with your meal."

After she leaves, Ben's mother comments, "Juice. Is that what you like to call it?"

Ben eyes down, "I mean, that would probably be a better word."

She nods, "Honey." and she waits for him to face her. "I rather think we should discuss your new diagnosis."

Ben's frown deepens, "Technically, I can't be diagnosed, unless it's by a psychologist."

"Ben," her eyes widen, "this is serious."

"It could be worse," he excuses. "At least I don't have an eating disorder."

"Ben," she sternly says.

"I'm just saying," Ben bypasses, "eating disorders can't be cured. This can, you know, so long as I'm given the proper treatment, which you already said I wouldn't."

"Would you stop it?" her voice raises.

He faces her, "Stop what?"

"Behaving like this," she asserts. "You know that if I had any say in the matter, you would get the best care possible."

"Do I?" Ben doubts.

Her expression softens, "If you sought treatment, your father would become paranoid about the people finding out. That wouldn't help anyone."

"The people are going to find out, anyway," Ben irritably responds, "if I keep blacking out and doing these things."

She sighs, "How many times?"

Ben shakes his head, placing a hand to it, "I don't even know." He hears the ringtone, "Hold on." and takes the phone from his pocket. "Chad?" Ben straightens, "What do you mean?"

"The video's gone viral," Chad informs. "Everyone's talking about it." Ben runs a hand over his face. "Tell me you didn't do it."

"Chad," Ben begins.

"My dad's completely pissed," he stresses. "He said he tried to reach you."

"Damn it," Ben mutters.

"If you really did this," Chad warns, "he's never going to let me see you again."

Ben wets his lips, "Can we meet tomorrow, so I can explain?" He stays silent. "Chad?"

"So, you did it, then?" he assumes.

"Chad," he reasons.

"Fuck you," he yells, and Ben can hear him start to cry. "You ruined everything."

"Chad," Ben pleads, but there's no response. "Chad?" he urges, before he checks his phone and notices the call had disconnected. "Shit."

"What happened?" his mother concerns.

Ben shakes his head, "Can you just shoot me?"

"That's not something to joke about," she seriously responds.

"I'm not," Ben mumbles. "My life is Hell."

She takes a moment, "What happened?"

Ben folds his hands and faces her, "There's a video of Jay and me from the hospital, when he accused me of assaulting Mal. The entire internet's talking about the defensive wounds on my face, and now King Charming's keeping Chad from seeing me until I offer an explanation." His mother eyes down. "What? No response?"

"You need to make a public appearance," she frowns at him, before she notices him start to counter it. "In French, so you don't misrepresent yourself."

"And say what?"

She takes a deep breath, "The truth; it was a mistake, that you never meant to hurt her."

"You want me to admit that I did it?" Ben surprises, and she stays quiet. "They would want an explanation. What do I say, that the doctor thinks I might have a form of dissociative personality disorder that exclusively affects hybrids?"

She frowns, "You can be as honest as you'd like. I'm not going to stop you."

His eyes widen, "There's no way Father would go for that."

"Staying silent isn't going to be any better," she softly speaks. "The only way this could have gone well is if it hadn't happened at all." His eyes lower, and he folds his hands tighter. "Honey," she places her hands over his, and he meets her warm brown eyes. "You didn't mean to do this. You're just ill. It's not your fault."

He gives her a look, "It's not my fault that I made Mal feel like she's nothing more than some slut who deserved to die?"

"You weren't even sexually assaulting her," his mother excuses. "You were just trying to drink from her."

"Like there's a difference," Ben cringes.

"I know you're confused about things right now," she starts.

"This isn't about being confused," Ben faces her. "Legally, a vampire or some other carnivore forcing themselves onto someone is treated the same as sexual assault—and with good reason. You can't just excuse my behavior because of illness."

"There are exceptions for illness," she counters.

"What if I did it to you?" he gestures to her.

"Well," her voice strengthens, "of course I'd feel violated." Ben nods, and she sternly finishes, "But I am your mother, and that means I love you unconditionally."

He eyes away, whispering, "This is so…"

She notices the tears intrude his eyes and reaches for him, "Ben."

"No," he hides his hands under the table.

"Honey," she moves to see his expression. "It's okay."

"No. It's not," he looks up and gulps. "I don't want you to love me unconditionally. I don't want to take advantage of that."

She takes a moment, "Like it or not, I am your mother, and that will not change." Ben holds his arms and looks away. "Ben. If you hurt me by accident, then you are not taking advantage of me."

He sadly eyes her, "But aren't I taking advantage just by having you here now?"

"Honey," she shuts her eyes, and Ben quickly wipes the tears away as the waitress comes into the area.

"Here you go," she sets the platters down before placing the items onto the table.

"Bridget," Ben manages, before he looks up at her. "I think I'd like to leave early. Is it possible to get a bag or something for the side dishes?"

She frowns, "Would you also like the bill?" He merely nods, and she partly smiles, "I'll be back in a minute."

As she leaves, Belle turns to Ben, "Honey."

"Would you stop it?" Ben tears up.

She examines his stress, "Stop what?"

"Stop," his voice raises. "Just—" He gestures to her before placing the hand to his head.

"Honey." She watches him shut his eyes hard, "Are you interpreting the things I'm saying as, uh… romantic?"

The tears slip from his eyes, "I need time." before he looks at her. "You were right before. I am really confused about a lot of things, and I can't sort through any of that if I'm getting new thoughts."

"Ben." She watches him pour the soda into the glass, "I don't want to stop offering you affection just because it affects you more than it should."

"Just 'til the end of summer," he compromises. "I just need some time."

"Honey," she sighs.

"And that means stop calling me honey," Ben interrupts. "Okay. I can't think things through if you're just going to act all…" He eyes off in annoyance, "Cute."

"Ben," she frowns. "You can't choose who you care about."

"But if I'm just confused," he defends.

"I don't think you are." She reasons, "I think you are a young man with very particular tastes and that you are very consistent in the types of people you like."

"I don't want to like you like that," Ben asserts. "I deserve some time to figure this entire thing out."

"Ben." She reaches for his hands again but then sighs and pulls them away, "I'm not upset with you. You've been very respectful to me, and you've controlled yourself decently."

"I want to get past this," Ben insists. "Whatever this is, I need it to stop. I can't keep sitting across from you at dinner, thinking of your hair and your smell and…" He wets his lips, "There are so many smart, innovative girls who are much more appropriate for me."

"And you've been dating them," she acknowledges. Ben eyes off in annoyance, and she reassures, "I can give you time if that's what you feel you need, but I don't want you to have to feel guilty for appreciating someone so greatly."

He gives her a look, "Really?"

"There are worse things."

Ben meets her eyes, "I do not love you. I am just malnourished and sensitive to smells, and I will find a way to separate food from…"

"Affection?" she offers.

"There's no way I'm this messed up," Ben disbelieves. "I'm already messed up plenty. This… I'm going to find a way through it."

His mother nods, "If you do, I will be happy for you." She hesitates, "But if you really do have an affection for me, I would not see you any differently."

Ben wets his lips, glancing down, "Honestly, that would be the problem."

"Ben," she begins, before he notices Bridget come back into the room.

She sets the bags and bill onto the table, "I hope you enjoyed…" She sees the drink and smiles at him, "The soda."

"Always," he smiles back, before he reaches for his pockets. He narrows his eyes and raises his hand, "Hold on." before she turns around and he places a fist to his mouth. "Um." His mouth opens, before he awkwardly smiles, "I left my checkbook at the castle. Do you accept cards by any chance?"

She walks back to the table and unclips a small device from her board, "Have you used one of these before?"

Ben takes it, "Yeah." before he slides his card in and a red x pops up on the screen. "I, uh… What does that mean?" He notices her frown, "What is it?"

"Your card has been declined," she uneasily states.

He faces his mother, "Father must be jealous."

"Ben," she exasperates.

He grins at Bridget, "Don't worry. I'm prepared." before he places his ankle on his leg, unties the shoe, and takes the cash from underneath its tongue.

"You keep money in your shoe?" she raises an eyebrow.

Ben counts it, "My father can be unpredictable." before he hands it to her.

She looks over it, mouth agape, before she hands him the difference, "I was meaning to ask—"

"Another time," Ben interrupts, before smiles at his mother. "We're finishing the steak and salad, and then I'm asking Father why my account can't be used."

"I'd very much like to know that too," she agrees.

"Well, have a good day," Bridget offers.

Ben nods, "You too." before he picks up the steak with his fork and brings it to his mouth. He bites a piece off, but then it reaches his back tooth, "Owe."

His mother gives him a look, "Ben?"

He shakes his head as he finishes the piece, "It's fine. I just chewed on the wrong side."

"What do you mean, the wrong side?" she laughs at the absurdity.

"I'm pretty sure I still have that cavity," Ben deeply frowns.

"But you were just at the dentist four months ago," her brows furrow.

"And six months before that," Ben irritably responds. "I hate dentists. They're stupid as fuck. It's like, 'Grind on this tin foil for us, won't you?'" Ben lifts a hand, "Even though they don't grind. And then they see my teeth tore through that one, and they're like 'Let's try that again. Move your teeth back-and-forth'. They don't. They literally just move up-and-down, and they're all 'Oh. Your teeth poked through it again. Well, we'll just use this one anyway." He straightens up, "And then they fill the center of my teeth, because that's the only place a cavity could be, and they tell me that the cavity I feel on the tip of my tooth is just a chipped tooth."

Belle gasps, before she shakes her head, "That's it. We're getting you in to see a dentist that specializes in carnivores."

"But Father," Ben reminds her.

"I don't care what your father thinks," she angrily interrupts. "You're only seventeen. We're not letting that cavity drill into your tooth, until at thirty-years-old it needs to be pulled."

"Thank you," he whispers.

She lets out a deep breath, "I hate to see you in pain. It's really nothing."

"You never choose me over Father," Ben mentions.

"I wouldn't say never," Belle picks up the fork, "but you are right. I don't do it nearly as often as I should." She mutters, "I'm sorry to say that when it comes to your father's interactions with other people, my instinct is to remain quiet and stay out of it." She shakes her head, "As your mother, I should be protecting you. You shouldn't have to face him alone."

"I wish I didn't have to face him at all," Ben evenly comments.

"You'll need to if you want to use your bank account," she reminds him.

Ben eyes from the salad to her, "After we make my will for Chad to become king, I think I'm going to fake my death and create a new life for myself."

She smiles, "You won't do that."

Ben frowns, "What makes you think that?"

She half laughs before placing a hand to his cheek, "You would miss me to much." before her expression falters and she slowly lets go, eyeing down. "I apologize. That was not something I should have done in that moment."

Ben feels a sinking sensation, "Mother?" but when she looks at him, he finds himself unable to speak.

"If you've changed your mind," she starts before letting out a breath. "You know that I'm still willing to just spend time with you, don't you?"

Ben's eyes shift, "I want you to promise me something." before he eyes down. "You don't need to promise. Just… if you're comfortable…" He faces her, "If I can't figure this out by the end of summer, I want to be able to ask you to a play without having to feel nervous about it." He wets his lips, "Do you, uh, agree?"

She nods, "I feel like that would be very reasonable." and he quietly nods in return.

* * *

\- I'm definitely projecting my dental frustrations onto Ben, but since my teeth don't grind either, he was a good choice... Seriously, though. It is frustrating, because even my back teeth are mountain-like. Maybe it's just because I have an overbite. I don't know, but my teeth are more like shearing teeth than grinders and it really is like the only solution a dentist can come up with is to just fill them in (or try to). It's stupid. Literally, that entire thing Ben just said, I have all of those complaints. That's exactly what happened to me when I went. And after all of my cavities were fixed, I could still feel one on the point of one of my teeth. The dentist said it's not one, though, so isn't that great?... Anyway, make sure to read **Side Problems** and **Islander Adventures** too... Maybe it will distract you from everything I just said.


	39. Personal Space

**Personal Space (Wednesday Night, July 11****th****)**

"I just got your voicemail," Ben informs. "It's not too late to talk, is it?"

He takes a moment, "I have an hour."

"May we discuss this on screen?" Ben unsurely responds.

"Give me a minute. I will request a chat."

"Okay. Thanks," Ben says, before the call ends. He stares at the laptop, and a few moments later the request pops up. He answers it, and he awkwardly smiles as he feels his heart speed up, "Hey."

King Charming frowns, "That was a very incriminating video."

"Uh," Ben shifts in his seat. "It was."

"Please, explain," he prompts.

Ben wets his lips, "I, um." He takes a deep breath and faces him, "I invaded Mal's personal space, she defended herself, and then she tried to kill herself."

"You invaded her personal space?" Charming questions.

Ben's eyes shift, "Yes."

He shakes his head, "For what purpose?"

He eyes down, "I don't know." before he frowns back up. "I just got closer to her than what she felt comfortable with."

"And this was after you broke up with her?" he rebuttals. Ben touches the scratches on his cheek, and Charming turns away. "Of course, it was."

"I didn't want to hurt her," Ben defends.

"I don't believe you did," he meets his eyes, "but if you weren't dating her at the time, you had no cause to initiate that kind of interaction."

Ben whispers, "I don't even really remember doing it." and Charming intently listens. "One minute she was taking a hamburger out of the pan, and the next my cheek felt warm. She seemed scared, and… I could only assume why."

He takes a moment, "And what was that?"

"That," Ben's voice shakes, as he gulps down the tears. "I…" He lifts a shoulder, "I just—I hadn't eaten, so I just assume…" He wipes a couple tears away, "Are you mad at me?"

"No," Charming frowns. "I'm worried about you. And my son. Your friendship means a lot to him, but I can't knowingly put him in danger. Do you have any explanation for this?"

Ben takes a deep breath, "I think so." as he tries to pull himself together. "The doctor has this theory, but I think that perhaps it's something else."

"What is it?" he questions.

Ben holds tight onto his arms, "If I tell you, can you not tell my parents?"

"I think that rather depends on what it is," he seriously answers.

Ben nods, "Okay." before he opens his mouth; however, the door opens, and his eyes widen as he watches his father enter the office.

"Is this how it's going to be now?" his eyebrows raise. "You're going to just run to your mother," he points from Ben to the empty doorway, "whenever I discipline you?"

Ben hurries to put the computer on mute, "Father." before he stands from the chair.

"If you have a problem with me," he angers, "you discuss it with me. You don't go to her!"

"I'm sorry," Ben apologizes, before he eyes down. "Wait. What's this about?"

"How I barred you from your bank account," his father supplies, "because you had the nerve to tell a fellow royal how terrible of a father I am." Ben falters, and he continues, "You're still a child. You cannot tell me how to parent."

"I just needed someone to talk to."

"And then you go tell your mother about this?" he disbelieves.

"I didn't tell her anything," Ben insists. "I needed to pay the bill. She was there."

"Bill?" he gives him a look.

"I, um." Ben scratches the back of his head, "I was at a restaurant with her."

His father strides forward, "You went out with her?"

"Just to eat," Ben reassures.

"Just to eat," his father grits his teeth. "You sicken me." Ben eyes away, and he glares at him, "She's your mother. Do you have no decency?"

Ben furrows his eyebrows, tears intruding his eyes as he faces him, "Aren't we supposed to be discussing my money."

"Your money?" his father's jaw drops. "I think you mean my money. Over half of that is from when I was still ruling. You took it when you and your mother plotted to take the crown."

Ben quietly states, "You agreed it would be good for your health."

"I didn't agree to anything," he shouts. "Belle manipulated me to give you the crown, and you took it from me."

"I didn't want to be king," Ben exasperates.

"No." His father nods, "You just went along with what your mother said, because you have this sick infatuation for her."

Ben evenly replies, "You're right. I am a sick, horrible being. Can you go now?"

"Not before you apologize," he asserts.

"Apologize for what?"

"For telling Charming I'm a bad man and father," his blue eyes piece at him.

Ben makes a noise before shaking his head, "I can't."

"You will if you want access to that money."

Ben narrows his eyes, "You know what?" before he leans forward. "I don't need you or your stupid money."

His father straitens, "You will regret this." before he slowly turns and exits the room.

After he leaves, Ben takes a deep breath and settles back in the chair, "Damn it." before pressing the button again. "I only put you on mute."

"Are you okay?" Charming concerns.

Ben shakes his head, "Just tired." as he rests his elbow on the desk and places a hand to his head. He fails to speak, and Ben's frown deepens, "You know, I should go."

"Hold on," he hurries. "We were discussing what you think happened with Mal."

"Well," Ben reasons, "I've decided I shouldn't share any more secrets with you."

"Ben," he breathes.

"Sorry," Ben simply says before exiting the call. He takes a shaky breath, gulping as tears fall from his eyes, and wipes them away before accepting the call again. "What?"

"I told your father what you said, because I thought he should explain himself and clear up any misunderstandings you two had," Charming comments.

"My father's all about war," Ben counters, as more tears leave his eyes. "Diplomacy is my mother you're thinking of."

"If I knew how much trouble you would get into," he apologizes, "I wouldn't' have said anything to him." Ben stays quiet, and Charming watches as he wipes the tears from his face. "How is he able to keep you from your money?"

"His money," Ben sadly laughs, before he shakes his head. "The account was made before I turned sixteen. He had to cosign it with me."

"But it would still be your name on the account." He reasons, "You can make it so only you have access to it now."

"If I could before," Ben mutters, "I definitely can't now." He eyes down, "Not without the bank questioning why my father felt the need to keep me from it in the first place… They'd probably think I'd been spending it recklessly or something, and he was trying to help me."

"Do you have a safe, maybe, at home somewhere?" Charming considers.

Ben's quiet for a long moment, "I have some money saved, but most of what I had left I had to spend at dinner when I found out my card wasn't clearing." He deeply frowns, "The rest won't last me long."

He frowns in return, "Maybe you should just apologize, even if you don't think you have any reason to. You're fairly independent. I know you're going to need that money."

"If I could apologize," Ben softly says, "I would have done it, but he does this kind of this all the time… I just couldn't find the words." He faces him, "No. I'll just have to find another job. The health store is hiring. I can try there."

"Aren't you still relearning English?" he questions.

Ben half laughs, "I don't have a lot of options here. I pay for my own medicine too. I'm literally going to die if I don't get a job."

"Wait," he lets out a breath. "Die?"

Ben falters, "I'm going to have to open a bank account only I can control too, so I should get going."

"It's the middle of the night," Charming counters.

"Is there anything else we needed to discuss?" Ben bypasses.

"Uh, yes," he recalls. "I still need an explanation, so Chad can continue to see you." Ben shakes his head, and he reassures, "I won't tell anyone. Whatever it is, you can tell me."

"Really?" Ben hopes.

He pauses, "I think something that's causing this type of behavior, an adult should know… even if it's not your parents."

"Thank you," Ben mumbles.

"Please. You can tell me."

Ben nods, before he faces him, his mouth opening before he admits, "I just, um, have a lot of bad eating habits, I guess?" He twiddles his fingers, "I'll, uh, either not eat or eat a lot, sometimes both." He stares down, "Sometimes I start to eat something, and the next I know, it's gone. Like, I already ate it, but I won't remember it." The tears fall to the desk, and he looks up at him, "I don't remember almost hurting Mal. Or Lonnie. Or anyone. I didn't mean to do it. I never drink on purpose. It's almost always by accident."

"So, when you don't eat enough," Charming clarifies, "you sometimes drink from people and don't remember it?"

"It's not just… the drinking," Ben anxiously answers. "It's food too. It's ice cream. It's peanut butter. It's whatever's for dinner." His voice crackles, "That's how I know the doctor's wrong. This isn't happening because I can't accept what I am. It's happening, because I can't figure out how to eat frickin' right. Food's just too hard, and I hate it."

"It's probably harder as a carnivore," Charming thinks, "trying to figure out how much of what food group you really need or which you can even have."

"I can't have vegetables," Ben nearly smiles. "I can't chew them."

"You can't have vegetables?" he questions.

"Well, I'll have pickles," Ben backtracks, "and Mother will steam some, which is easier, but they will still taste bad." He cringes, "Actually, all food tastes pretty disgusting. I don't know why I even brought that up."

"All food?" his mouth gapes.

Ben makes a face, "Unless I'm distracted." and his eyes shift. "Maybe it's a sensory thing. They're just too heightened or something."

"I think, maybe," Charming proposes, "you should at least tell your doctor about this. If he's going to try to treat you for something, you want it to be for the right thing."

"No," Ben immediately responds. "I can't do that."

"Why not?" His mouth opens, but he doesn't speak. "Ben?"

"I just feel like I can't," he slowly responds.

"Like how you couldn't apologize to your father?" he inquires.

"No," Ben lets out a breath. "This is different."

"Then why can't you?"

"Because," Ben begins, before he lets out a breath. "Because, then we wouldn't be able to get away with it."

His eyebrows furrow, "We?"

"Me," Ben's eyes shift, before he corrects, "I wouldn't get away with it."

"Get away with what?"

He looks off in thought, as he slowly replies, "I don't know."

"You don't know?" Ben turns back to him and shakes his head. Charming takes a moment, "If you told them, you wouldn't get away with your eating disorder."

Ben's eyes widen, "Who said anything about an eating disorder. I never said—"

"If you told the doctor," Charming calmly responds, "he'd be obligated to tell your parents. They'd keep an eye on you. You wouldn't be able to do the things you do now."

"I don't have an eating disorder," Ben furiously whispers. "I just have bad eating habits. That's it. That's all."

"Ben," he tries to reason.

"I'm sick enough," he insists. "I can't have an eating disorder."

He frowns, "The way you feel about your mother isn't an illness."

Ben looks away, "That's not what I was referring to." He stays silent, and Ben turns back to him, "You must know I'm actually ill."

"Ben," he falters. "I don't know what you mean."

He wets his lips, "You remember when I was little and my parents got upset when you and Ella took me to the hospital?"

He nods, "I do."

Ben frowns, "I, um." as he glances down. "My parents were upset, because I had already taken medicine and when you took me to the hospital, they gave me an overdose." He meets his dark brown eyes, "I have a high body temperature, even after I take medicine for it."

He takes a minute, "I don't understand."

"I'm ill with hyperthermia," Ben evenly explains. "I take medicine to lower my body temperature every day, but it still remains high." He glances down, "Whenever I get a cold or the flu, I am lucky to survive."

"How could we have not known about this?" Charming comments in confusion. "The council should have been made aware of this."

"I have very little say in my own life," Ben frowns at him. "You didn't know about my illness for the same reason you or I wasn't told what I am." He shakes his head, "My parents thought I would be dethroned if any of this was made public."

"The council should have known," he insists.

Ben eyes from the desk to him, "I'm making a will in case anything happens to me." before taking a deep breath. "And in that will, I will be giving my crown and position as king of this country over to Chad."

"To Chad?" he disbelieves.

"There's no one I trust more," Ben discloses. "Chad cares about the people. He will make sure they get everything they need and deserve."

"Well, yes," Charming recognizes, "but…"

"Chad's worked alongside me this past year," Ben informs. "He knows what goes into the job and how important it is that it gets done."

"There's no one else you'd want to rule?" he questions. "Not even your girlfriend? Anyone else would want to secure their partner's standings, elope, and give everything to them."

"Mal's not my girlfriend anymore," Ben reminds him.

"You were happy with her," he excuses. "I've never seen you that happy, even with Audrey. What you two had was special."

"I assaulted her," Ben asserts. "And she tried to kill herself because of it. I'm not good for her." Charming eyes down, and Ben takes a calming breath, "Okay. Let's say Mal gets diagnosed with something, she's treated for it, and she still wants to be with me." He looks back up, and Ben continues, "Mal may be a leader, but she doesn't strike me as political. Her mother pressured her to take the crown. I don't think she actually wants the job that comes with it."

"Chad has plans," Charming comments. "He wants to go to college. He wants to play pro tourney. He wants to fall back on a sports health position. He can do that if he's running a kingdom, but do you really think he's going to want to run an entire country?"

Ben thinks, "I know Chad wants to be king. I don't know if he will still want to be king if he doesn't have me to turn to, but he really is the only one I trust with the job."

He nods, "Okay."

Ben wets his lips, "Um. I really could use Chad's help with some king stuff. Could you possibly allow a supervised visit for tomorrow afternoon?"

Charming nods again, "I think I can do that."

Ben tries to smile, "Thank you."

"Just," Charming looks over him. "Keep your hands and teeth to yourself."

"Of course," Ben frowns.

* * *

-**Posted**:07/13/2019

**Megan** First off, I will say the Taylor Swift song you recommended before sounds way better when I'm listening to it over the radio at work and not sitting at my desk watching the music video. As for the D3 song you recommended, I listened to it, but... Aside from liking songs with more of a melody (and probably fewer voices), I think the video was jarring me too much for me to appreciate the song. Especially the first time I listened to it, I just noticed a lot of things that didn't make sense. If you look at Dizzy's hair (yes, Dizzy, because that's how it's spelled in the cast trailer) you will notice there's probably been a huge time jump. This makes sense if they want Ben to propose, but it doesn't make sense when Uma swore revenge at the end of the last movie (And, yes, it could be hair extensions, but I feel like you need longer hair for that anyway). Depending on what happens in this next movie, I don't know if I'll be able to make it cannon in my fanfic series or not. I know I plan to make the second one compatible, but if Mal teams up with Hook and Uma that conflicts with what I have here, and I rather do like the idea of Hades being Mal's father, so... yeah. Did you read that short story? It's the second chapter of Islander Adventures. I left it vague, just in case. Anyway, maybe the song will be better with context of the movie, but the songs they've been releasing early (like Genie in a Bottle) really doesn't make sense to me. The movie's about the new VKs coming to Auradon, a sleeping curse, and Mal needing Hades' stone/gem to break it. I don't see how that Genie song would be relevant in an hour and half long movie. It doesn't seem relevant to me. Surely, there's better things to spend five minutes on.

\- So, I really need to shout out **pinkcrazyness** for either following or favoriting every single one of my Descendants fanfics. You thought you could hide from me, but you were wrong. Please, comment. I'd love to hear from someone who I know for sure has read everything. (If others of you have, feel free to leave a comment saying so, but my other Descendants stories are seeming a little bare. They could use a little love, you know.) Anyway, enjoy today's post. Make sure to leave a comment of what you think so far, and don't feel shy on my other stories either. I love reading your guys' thoughts and predictions. And for those of you who are still here from the first story (Isle Problems: Behind the Scenes), thank you so much for your dedication. You are awesome!


	40. Escapism

**Escapism (Thursday Afternoon, July 12****th****)**

"We couldn't get anything out of her," Dr. Roberts informs. "She won't even speak to me. The most she's said is that she can't drink water." He turns Belle, "We have been giving her milk and meat sandwiches for meals. Is that enough?"

"For now." She turns back to the glass and gasps as she places a hand to her heart, Mal standing in front of her with glowing eyes.

"And then there's this," the grey-haired doctor evenly answers. "She can see us."

"But the glass," she stresses.

"Is one-way," the doctor confirms, "but she can't hypnotize us. I'm unsure whether it's the type of glass or the width, but she can't do it while we're out here." He faces her, "The hypnotism has been a problem. Any time we try to go in, she makes us leave. The first time she actually hypnotized someone to let her leave, but luckily we caught up with her." His concern grows, "However, it's going to be hard determining the treatment plan needed for her if she refuses to answer our questions."

"Ask me," Belle turns back to him.

"Excuse me?" he inquires.

"Do you need to know why she did this?" she asks.

"And her family history, any known illness, or substance abuse," he adds on.

Belle glances down before meeting his blue eyes and disclosing, "Mal's an alcoholic." He nods in thought. "Would it be possible to safely detox her from the alcohol so long as she is in here?"

"That would take longer than seventy-two hours," Dr. Roberts informs. "I would recommend that the minimum of her stay to be extended to a week, should we do that."

"Yes," she accepts.

"As her listed guardian, you will need to sign your permission."

"Yes," she agrees. "Of course."

"I will get the papers, but before I do," he continues, "is there anything else I should know?"

Belle lets out a breath before facing him, "Mal also has a history of abuse and, um, rape." She uneasily says, "It's possible that when Ben got close to her, it may have triggered something." Her eyes lower, "It may very well be why she's in here."

"She needs therapy," the doctor opinionates.

Belle meets his eyes, "I've gotten to know Mal a fair amount this summer. She likes to work past things. When she delves into her problems, she only obsesses over them more."

"Rape victims often think it's their fault," he counters. "She needs to know it isn't."

"She's never going to be able to forget it," Belle counters. "The more she is forced to remember it, the harder it will be for her to set it aside."

"This isn't a bad book," Dr. Roberts asserts. "This is her mind. She can't just set it aside."

"I don't see why not." Belle frowns, "I've set things aside."

He falters, "How have you been? Any worsening symptoms?"

"I'm perfectly fine," she reassures.

"And your reading?" he inquires.

"I have fully embraced my reality," her voice strengthens. "I am no longer retreating to the point of neglecting those who depend on me."

He nods, "That's good to hear. You've made a lot of—"

"Is that all?" she interrupts.

"Belle," he frowns. "Escapism is—"

She checks her watch, "I'm supposed to be supervising Ben's friend's visitation. May I just sign the papers, so I can leave?"

"About Ben," the doctor cautiously comments. "I've been meaning to talk to you."

She observes him, "What is it?"

His frown deepens, "Ben has missed his last three appointments."

"He hasn't seen you in three months?" she concerns.

"Nearly four now," he informs, and she places a hand to her head. "I don't want to worry, but this is very uncharacteristic of him."

She faces him, "Are you available today?"

He nods, "I can make time for him."

"I'm going to get him," she says, but before she can leave, he stops her.

"Wait. Don't you want to sign the papers first?"

Belle turns back to him, "Right." before she thinks. "Uh. Perhaps—Evie can't be hypnotized—maybe you would let her try to get Mal to cooperate?"

Dr. Roberts nods, "Bring her when you bring Ben. She can talk to her while we speak with him."

* * *

"When was the last time you slept?" Chad's brows furrow.

"Um," Ben thinks. "Why?"

"You did the math wrong," he points out. "Seven plus two is nine, not eleven." Ben looks at the spreadsheet. "And you got two extra digits here."

"Chad," Ben frowns, and he faces him. "Thank you."

Chad eyes over him, before he glances at his father and eyes back at the computer, "Yeah. No prob." He corrects the math, "Seriously, though. When was the last time you slept?"

"Haven't you learned?" Ben half jokes, "I don't." before he eyes down from Chad's face to his neck. That tart scent makes his teeth tense, and his mouth cracks open as he sees the blue vein running across his skin. There's a rushing sound, like a stream, and steady drum underneath.

"Ben. Did you hear me?" Chad frustrates.

"Huh?" He faces him, "What?"

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" he accuses.

Ben huffs, "Thinking of what?"

"You know what."

"Chad," Ben tries to reason. "I didn't even say anything."

"You don't have to," he shouts. "I can tell by the way you look at me."

"Oh. Come on," Ben disbelieves.

"Admit it," he insists. "You're thinking about it."

"I really don't think I was," Ben denies, before he opens a drawer and pulls out a pack of fruit chews.

"You have a boner," Chad dismisses.

Ben gives him a look, "And what are you doing looking at my crotch?" and Chad fails to respond. "You know, I wouldn't criticize you for thinking anything about me. We're supposed to be friends, Chad. Are you really going to let a little thing like this stand between us?"

He frowns at him, "I just want to be seen as more than an object of someone's desires."

Ben lets out a calming breath, "Chad. You're my friend. I would never purposely objectify you." before his eyebrows furrow. "Anyway. I don't actually think of you like that."

Chad looks over him, "You don't?"

"Oh, God," Ben sighs. "One minute you're upset because you think I'm objectifying you, and the next you're sad because I don't fantasize about you in that way." Chad looks down, but he keeps eye contact on him, "I'm trying here, Chad. I really am. What do you want from me?"

Chad looks back at him, eyeing his mouth, before he turns back to his father and then stares back at the computer screen, "Nothing. I want nothing."

Ben looks over him before offering a fruit chew, "Do you want one?"

He glances at it, "I don't eat candy." and Ben quietly inserts the soft candy into his mouth. "The math should be correct now."

"Thank you," Ben whispers.

When Chad doesn't respond, his father questions, "Do you want to go home?"

He shakes his head, "No." before he glances from Ben to him. "I want to stay."

The door suddenly opens, and Ben's eyes widen as his mother strides into the room, "You haven't seen the doctor in four months?"

"Mother," Ben tries to reason.

"You know how important your appointments are," she asserts.

"I felt fine," Ben exasperates.

"That's no excuse to skip your appointments."

"What's going on?" Chad questions.

Ben wets his lips, "People can get sick just form visiting the hospital."

"So, you don't see the doctor at all?" she disbelieves.

"Well," Ben begins.

"Do you even realize how serious this is," she steps forward, and Ben looks off. "If we don't manage your condition, you could die."

Ben faces her and evenly responds, "How could I forget? It's all I ever hear."

"Honey," she sighs.

"No," Ben shouts. "You don't get to do that. You don't get to tell me I'm going to die one minute and then act all cute to get me to forgive you the next." She opens her eyes, and he narrows his at her. "I get it, okay? I'm going to die." He sadly laughs, "So, what's the point?"

"The point is for you not to die," she sternly responds.

"If the goal was for me not to die," Ben counters, "you wouldn't be forcing be to go to a place full of sick people."

She nods, "You're right. You shouldn't be surrounded by sick people." as she frowns at him. "Which is why if you miss another doctor's appointment, I will pull you out of school."

Ben gasps, "You can't do that."

"That's illegal," Chad points out.

"Not if I place you in an online program," she counters, "or better yet—teach you myself."

"You can't just keep me here," Ben shouts.

"Why not?" she evenly responds. "It worked when your father did it to me."

Chad gives a look, "You're seriously using that to justify this?"

"Chad," his father commands, "go to the car."

"What?" he exasperates.

"Go to the car," he sternly repeats, and Chad grumbles before heading for the door.

Ben catches a final glance from him, before the door closes again, and his mother informs, "I've made an appointment for you. Dr. Roberts will be expecting us."

"And if I don't go?" Ben tests.

"Then you can forget about graduating with your friends," she answers, and Ben silences. "Come now. Travis is waiting for us downstairs."

Ben stands from the desk, walks towards them, and looks over her, tears in his eyes, "I hate you so much."

She frowns, "You can only truly hate someone you really love." and Ben shakes his head before striding to the door.

After he leaves, Charming comments, "Belle." before she faces him. "Are you okay?"

She folds her hands in front of her, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Just what you said about Adam keeping you here," he uneasily explains.

"Right," she recalls, before she nods, "I'm fine."

"Belle," he hesitates, "you know I'm not one for rumors. I prefer to hear it from the people involved."

"I know," she partly smiles. "That's very honorable of you."

"I would hate to think that someone I worked with could have kidnapped an innocent girl and… had his way—"

"You can stop there," Belle holds up a hand. "Adam never… He didn't rape me as the beast. Or any time after."

"But if you didn't even want to be here," Charming counters.

"I want to be here," Belle denies.

"You do now," he frowns, "but how long did it take for you to stop fighting him off?"

"I had my reservations at first," she admits, "but then I got to know him."

"But you were alone with him?" he inquires. "You were forced to stay in this castle with him. Just because he offered you better courters, that didn't make you any less a prisoner."

"It was dangerous outside," she excuses. "Beast saved my life. Adam was just looking out for me." She thinks, "And I wasn't alone with him. I had the servants."

"But they were just animated objects," Charming counters. "People are far more inclined to make connection with other people or animals." She eyes down, and he steps forward, "Belle. I want you to be able to be honest with me. Are you a victim of Stockholm Syndrome?"

She faces him, "I believe I am, but what people forget about Stockholm Syndrome is that it not only involves the prisoner to fall for the captor, but it also involves the captor falling for their prisoner." She meets his eyes, "Adam and I may have met under less than ideal circumstances, but that doesn't make our love any less real."

"But you didn't have a choice," Charming concerns.

"Neither did he," Belle laughs. "Neither did any of us. Aurora had an arranged marriage, Snow was dowered at age fourteen, and even you and Ella met during desperate times. Does that make your love any less real?"

"I wasn't Ella's abuser," Charming calmly dismisses, "and Aurora and Phillip's love grew as they got to know each other."

"As did Adam's and mine," she compares, and his mouth opens as he eyes down. "You don't believe me."

"It's not that," Charming sighs. "You have a very rational way of thinking, and I can believe you're okay with the circumstances of your marriage."

"But?" she prompts.

"Other people wouldn't see it that way," he answers. "To them, Adam would just be another villain worthy of imprisonment."

"Well, then," her voice strengthens, "you know the solution." He doesn't speak, and she answers herself, "You keep this to yourself."

He hesitates, "You would tell me if you were unhappy—or ever become so?"

Belle frowns, "I've never been happy, but I can reassure you I am more content now than I've ever been in my life." He nods. "This stays between us, then?"

"Yes," Charming answers, disheartened. "This stays between us."

She observes him, "You're unsettled."

"I am worried about Ben," Charming discloses. "He was video chatting with me when Adam got into an argument with him. He seemed to be pretty hard on him."

"What was the argument about?" she questions.

"His bank account." Belle nods, and Charming informs, "Ben's thinking about getting a second job."

"If he can balance ten classes with being king," Belle evenly replies, "then I have full confidence that he can handle a summer job."

"He's still just a kid," he opinionates. "Ben should be enjoying his summer, especially now that he's king. He deserves a minute to relax."

"Ben relax?" Belle disbelieves. "He gives himself reasons not to."

"Maybe he feels pressured," Charming suggests.

"Or perhaps," she counters, "he likes to keep busy." Charming fails to respond, and she comments, "We're working on getting Ben's income directed to his new account." He nods, and she suggests, "We shouldn't keep them waiting."

"Of course," Charming recalls, before he steps towards the door.

* * *

Chad notices him hurry down the stairs, "Ben?" and when he makes it to the foyer, Chad stops him. He sees the tears on his face, "Ben. What happened?"

"I hate her," he shakily breathes, holding his arms. "I really hate her."

"What happened?" he asks again.

"She—" Ben places a hand to his mouth and gulps, before he tightens his grip on his arms. "She seriously thinks she can trap me here, because he did to her." Chad frowns, and Ben's breathing quickens. "She said she cared. She said—"

"Ben," Chad concerns, "it's okay."

"It was torture for her," he cries. "How could she even think—"

"Ben," he interrupts. "Breathe."

"She would rather make me live in misery," he cries, "instead of me living until I die."

Chad places his hands on his shoulders and widens his greyish blue eyes, "Ben. This only happens if you don't see the doctor."

"She doesn't love me," he shakes. "She couldn't—She can't—"

Chad hugs him, "Ben. It's okay. You're okay."

"Why can't she love me," he sobs. "Just a little. Why can't she just—"

Chad feels the tears on his shoulder, "She does love you. She's just being selfish about it." He thinks, "She wants you alive for her… but she does love you."

Ben takes in deep breathes, "But she doesn't care. She doesn't care about me."

"Ben," Chad whispers. "It's okay."

"No one loves me."

"That's not true." Chad takes a moment, "Your friends love you."

Ben's breathing evens out, as he takes in the tart scent and stares at the bare neck, "You love me."

Chad feels him suck on his neck, "Ben. We can't do this."

He stops; however, the bitter taste lingers, and he knows that if he could just have more, it would make everything okay. His teeth tense, his mouth slowly opens, and he transfixes on his neck, preparing to bite. "Ben!" His mouth shuts as his eyes widen, and he sees his mother scurrying down the staircase. "What are you doing?"

Ben fails to speak, and Chad faces the stairs, "It's okay. I was the one that hugged him." His father makes it to the bottom of the stairs, frowning. "He didn't do anything."

"Chad," he stresses, "you're supposed to be in the car."

"It's hot out there," he excuses.

"Then turn the air on," his father solves, before he nods to the front door. "Go. I will be there in a minute."

"He didn't do anything," Chad yells as his eyebrows furrow.

"I said go," his father asserts, and Chad grumbles as he shakes his head and leaves.

Ben watches the ornate double door shut, before his mother steps forward and reaches for his forehead. He pushes it away, "Would you stop touching me?"

His mother sighs, "You're warm."

"I already took half a bottle today," he irritably responds.

She frowns, "We can stop for ice cream on the way to the doctor."

"With what money?" Ben frustrates.

"I have a few dollars."

"I don't want any stupid ice cream," Ben shouts. "I'd like to just not get fever inducingly upset in the first place. Shouldn't it just be that easy?"

"Clearly not," she evenly responds, "if you're unable to manage your emotions."

Ben gapes at her, sadly laughing, and Charming questions, "Can I have a minute with him? I need to discuss Chad's visitation."

Belle nods, "I'll wait outside."

After she leaves, Charming turns to Ben, "Are you okay?"

Ben reaches into his pocket, but then he sees the tic-tac case is empty, "Shit."

He hurries over to the office, and Charming watches as he rummages through the desk. Ben takes out a bottle of liquid cold medicine, and he shakily takes the cap off before staring at it. "You're not going to drink all of that?" Ben sits down in the swivel chair, and Charming reminds him, "You could overdose. You'll die."

"I really wish I could die," Ben admits, as he holds the bottle. "I'm so tired of it all." He gulps, "Of everything being my fault… out of my control."

"Ben," Charming steps forward, "you can't do this."

He gives him a look, "You're going to challenge me?" and Charming silences. Ben shakes his head, "That's the worst thing anyone could say, that I can't do it." He pours a serving into the plastic measurer, "Don't worry. I'm not going to. The will's still not made. If I do now, Father would get the crown back." He drinks the medicine, but after he pours a second serving, Charming stops him from bringing it to his mouth. He meets his eyes, "My fever needs two."

Charming reluctantly lets go, and he watches as Ben drinks it, "If making a will is going to make you feel less guilty about attempting suicide, then maybe you shouldn't do one."

Ben screws the cap back on, "I've tried it before. If there wasn't a will, I'd probably have done it right now." before he places the bottle back in the drawer.

"Is your life really that bad?" Charming doubts, and Ben eyes away at the tone of his voice. "You're successful. You have a loving family—"

"A loving family," Ben interrupts. "After everything you've seen and heard, you're still going to insist that?"

"Sure, there's a lack of communication," he accepts.

Ben stands, "Here's what I have." before he meets his dark brown eyes. "The life I have, I have to avoid my raging father, I'm crushing on my neglectful mother, all the while, living in a body I can't even stand."

"What's wrong with your body?" Charming questions. "Aside from your, uh, illness."

Ben wets his lips, glancing down, "Nothing obviously."

He watches him scratch the back of his head, "I know it must be hard dealing with… well, what you are."

Ben's eyes widen at him, "I hurt people, and I have no control over it. Nothing in my life is mine. Are you really going to tell me I don't deserve to die?"

Charming frowns, "No one deserves to die."

Ben half laughs, "Just another thing I want that I'm not allowed to have."

"Ben," he cautiously continues.

"You wanted to talk about Chad?" he intervenes.

"I'd like to finish this conversation first."

"Well, I don't," Ben counters. "If you want to talk about Chad, let's talk about Chad. He's waiting for you in the car, and I have a doctor's appointment to get to."

"Right," Charming recalls, before he faces him. "I really don't want to discuss this, knowing how you already feel."

"I'm fine," Ben denies. "Continue."

He hesitates, "I guess… I just wanted to remind you that Chad's still fifteen, and by the time he does turn sixteen… by summer you would be eighteen, moving on in life, and he'd still just be…" He lets out a breath, "Do you get what I'm trying to say?"

"Chad's not age appropriate for me," Ben realizes, before he shakes his head. "But I don't think of Chad like that."

"Maybe you don't," Charming accepts, "but you still act inappropriately with him. Age of consent is sixteen, so even if your physical interaction with him has only been about the blood, he is not old enough to make that decision." Ben eyes down, and he takes a breath, "Look. I'm not accusing you of being a predator. Chad acts very mature for his age—and maybe that's my fault for having him skip a grade and attend Auradon Prep early—but you need to remind yourself that under the law he is still a child and that whatever interaction you've been having with him, it's both inappropriate and illegal. Do you understand?" Ben gulps as he nods. "Alright, then. In the future, I'd like to have both your mother and I supervise any visits. Is that okay with you?"

"Yeah," Ben sniffles, not daring to look at him.

Charming places a hand on his shoulder, "I'm glad we could have this talk. I know it's hard to own up to your mistakes, but you've always been good at coming to terms with yours. If the men I knew were half as thoughtful as you, the world would be a better place."

Ben shakily breathes, "He's two years younger than me." and the tears fall to the desk.

"Ben," Charming falters. "You've been a good friend to him. I wouldn't be offering you so many second chances if you weren't."

"Chad's done way more for me than I've ever done for him," Ben denies, before he shakes his head. "How could I have…"

"You took the same classes," Charming reminds him. "Of course, you would think he was mature enough to make the same decisions you do."

Ben sadly laughs, "Why does my life have to be so fucked up?"

Charming takes a moment, "If you ever need to talk… I'll be available." Ben continues to stare at his folded hands, and he unsurely asks, "Do you want a hug?"

"Can I just be alone?" Ben whispers.

Charming nods, "Of course." before he heads for the door; however, after he opens it, he turns back. "I know life seems hard right now, but Chad's even younger than you were when you took the throne. If you thought it was hard, it would be even harder for him."

"I get it," Ben's voice strengthens. "Don't kill myself."

"I'll be available if you ever need to talk," Charming repeats, and after a minute of silence he shuts the door.


	41. Blood Test

**Blood Test (Thursday Afternoon, July 12****th****)**

"She's just trapped in there with her thoughts," Evie frowns, as she watches Mal sit on the edge of the mattress in the padded room.

Ben looks at his mother, "Is this really necessary?"

"Mal's safe in there," Belle simply answers.

Ben nods, before he looks back and sees Mal stride towards them and place her hands on the glass. "Ben?" She pounds on it, "Ben. Get me out of here!"

He looks at the doctor, "She can see me?"

"She's seeing your heat, dear," his mother informs.

"I said get me out of here," she shouts again.

"Should I go in there?" Ben unsurely says.

"No," Dr. Roberts answers. "If she hypnotizes you, there's no telling what could happen." He turns to Evie, "Before you talk to her, you will need to place anything sharp in the box. That includes your earrings and hair clips."

Ben watches Evie discard of her jewelry, eyeliner, and nail file, before his eyes widen and mouth gapes, "Mal." She has a sharp nail pointed at her neck.

"Let me out," she commands. "Ben. I know you can hear me."

"She's not going to do it," Ben frowns. "She did this in jail too."

"But she still went through with it," Evie reminds him. "Mal plays the odds, but if it doesn't go her way, she will do it."

The grey-haired man pushes the button, "Mal. It's Dr. Roberts."

"I want to see Ben," she asserts.

His blue eyes move from him to her, "Ben has his own appointment to get to, but you do have another visitor."

"I don't want another visitor," Mal yells. "I want Ben." The doctor swipes his cardkey into the door, he motions Evie over, and after he opens the door, she steps inside. Mal lets out a sad breath, "Evie?"

She frowns, "I feel so wanted."

Mal races forward and wraps her arms around her, "Evie."

"You two have an hour," he informs, before he shuts the door.

Ben watches Mal swipe Evie's hair behind an ear, moving a hand to her cheek before kissing her. He lowers his eyes, and his mother evenly comments, "You did give them permission. You can't get mad now."

"I'm not mad." Ben narrows his eyes at her, "I never get mad."

"Just frustrated," she counters.

"Upset," he sighs before shaking his head, and he wipes away a sudden tear. "I just… I didn't expect it to feel so…"

Dr. Roberts presses the button again, "Mal. I'd just like to remind you that you are being watched and that any illicit activities should be discreet."

Mal narrows her eyes at them and raises her middle finger, before Evie covers her hands over Mal's to put it back down. Belle questions, "Does that mean something?"

"Likely," Ben frowns. "The Isle has these sayings… I don't know."

"Why don't we head to my office?" the doctor suggests.

Ben nods, "Yeah. Okay."

* * *

"First things first," Dr. Roberts opens a small case.

Ben's eyes widen at the needle, "What is that?"

The doctor gives him a look, "You haven't seen me in months. I'd like to do a blood draw."

"But I'm not prepared," Ben panics.

"What do you mean, not prepared?" his mother interrupts.

He cautiously turns back to the doctor. "I, uh," he wets his lips, "take supplements and things. It could mess with the results."

"The blood draw is to see how you do on a regular basis," he sternly eyes him. "It's not something you should need to prepare for."

"Right," Ben tightly folds his hands.

"What kind of supplements do you take?" he inquires.

Ben watches him pick up the pen and notepad, "I don't really know." and when the doctor's blue eyes face him, Ben looks down. "I've just been trying some things… Things from the health store. You know."

"You can't tell me anything?"

Ben bites his bottom lip, and his mother's eyebrows raise, "Am I going to have to search your room and office?"

Ben gives her a look before facing Dr. Roberts, "It's mostly just sleeping stuff."

"You have trouble sleeping?" he concerns.

"No more than always," Ben frowns.

"You didn't say anything," his mother comments.

"It's worse during the school year," Ben explains before shaking his head. "I just can't sleep at all. I either knock myself out with cold medicine or end up sleeping through class."

"But it's better during the summer?" the doctor inquires.

Ben lifts a shoulder, "Sleep's still stupid, but I at least do it sometimes—decently."

"And when do you tend to sleep during the summer?" he questions.

"In the mornings?" Ben unsurely responds. "Sometimes into the afternoon?"

Belle sees the doctor nod, "What is it?"

He takes a moment, "Some carnivores are naturally nocturnal." before he looks at Ben. "I assume you're heat sensitive. What about light?"

Ben glares at his mother, "I'm not allowed to wear sunglasses."

"I told you to take that up with your father," she reminds him. "He's the one that needs to be reassured you two will remain safe."

"I did," Ben grits his teeth. "He said no."

"Then, there you go," she simply responds, and Ben gives her a look.

"I'm going to take that as a yes," Dr. Roberts interrupts, and they face him again. "I'm guessing you're having a hard time sleeping, because you aren't sleeping on your natural cycle." He looks at Ben, "I recommend that you take the time to sleep when you need to." before he looks at Belle. "And that he's enrolled into a night school."

Ben's mouth gapes, before his mother says, "We were just discussing some online and homeschooling options."

"What?" Ben's eyes widen at her, "No." He turns back to the doctor, "I can't just leave my friends and teachers."

"Your teachers, Ben?" his mother points out.

"They're supportive," he defends.

"You're graduating next year anyhow," Dr. Roberts reminds him, "and any true friend of yours would withstand your school change."

"Long-distance doesn't work," Ben disbelieves.

"It works for you and Chad," she comments.

He swiftly turns to her, "That's not long-distance."

"This wouldn't be much different," she reasons. "You would still be able to see him—to see all of your friends."

Ben shouts, "You said if I keep up with my doctor appointments that I could graduate with my friends."

Belle sighs and faces the doctor, "I did promise him that."

He nods before meeting Ben's hazel green eyes, "I still recommend that you choose a college that suites your needs."

Ben's eyes shift, "I'll think about it." before he faces him again and the doctor nods.

"Alright." Dr. Roberts preps the small needle and faces Ben, "Rest your arm." Ben does as he's told and watches as the doctor examines the top of his hand. "Hmm. I can't find a vein."

Ben's brows furrow, "It's right there."

He frowns at him, "I can't see what you see." before grabbing the band. "Turn your arm over, please." Ben irritably complies, the doctor ties it around his arm, and he feels the cool cloth clean the inside of his elbow. Ben takes a deep breath and shuts his eyes, as the doctor pokes the needle into his skin. Ben's eyes open, and he watches his blood fill the vile.

"Ben." He looks at his mother. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," Ben evenly responds, before the needle and band are removed and he turns back to the grey-haired doctor. "Here." Dr. Roberts hands Ben a clipboard, "Please, fill this out while I take this to the lab."

Ben eyes from the clipboard to where the needle had penetrated his arm to the doctor again, "No band aid?"

"Did you want one?" he inquires.

"I mean," Ben begins, "I like the Loony Toons ones."

"You're just here for a checkup," his mother reminds him.

"I get a check up every month," Ben complains. "I'm going to have to get a shot eventually." He turns back to the doctor, "Right?"

"At your age, you've had most of your shots," he counters.

"Then a flu shot," Ben looks between them. "An immunization."

"Then you wouldn't have an excuse for wearing a band aid when you do get your immunization," he calmly comments.

"I don't want him to get those anymore," Belle informs. "After last time…"

"A short cold is better than what the flu could bring," Dr. Roberts concerns.

"Ben isn't social," she insists, "and he's not in sports anymore. He can go without it."

He nods, "If you're sure—"

"I'm sure."

"Alright, then," he cautiously agrees. "So long as he does keep to himself more."

Ben eyes between them, "Does that mean I get a band aid?"

His mother sighs, before she faces the doctor and softly says, "He never really did get a decent childhood."

Dr. Roberts searches the desk drawers, before he pulls out some bandages, "I'm afraid these are all I have right now."

Ben looks from the beige bandages to the blue, green, and red colors, before he notices the pink band aid with white Pegasus on it and points, "That one."

"That one?" he questions in surprise.

Ben awkwardly smiles, "It's the closest."

Dr. Roberts places the band aid below the burn on Ben's upper arm. "Does that hurt?"

Ben shakes his head, "Lonnie. Do you know what she is, yet?"

"I don't believe even she knows." He smiles, "Now, fill out the questionnaire. I'll be back shortly."

After the doctor leaves, Ben eyes over the test. How have you been doing generally over the last three months: strongly agree, agree, disagree, or strongly disagree. Ben eyes over the questions and mentions, "You know, Chad said he only gets this survey twice a year."

When Ben turns to her, Belle excuses, "You're king. Your wellbeing is important."

Ben sighs and turns back to the psych survey, "How honest to you want me to be?"

"He's your doctor, and you trust him." She reasons, "I'd like you to tell him the truth."

"And when it gets to the part where I have to say whether I've been abused?" Ben frowns at her. "Father leading me to the edge of the stairs, pushing my face to the ground, does that count or is it not bad enough?"

She frowns in return, "I trust you will do what you think is right."

"Right." Ben bites his bottom lip harder and runs through the answers, before he halts. Your appetite has either significantly decreased or increased.

"That one I do want you to be honest about," she interrupts.

"Strongly agree," Ben sighs, before he reaches for his forehead.

* * *

Mal pulls the curtain shut, before she pushes Evie towards the cushioned sink and kisses her again. She runs her teeth past Evie's lips, letting go, before she whispers, "You're mine."

"Mal," Evie laughs, "don't you think we should talk?"

"We just did that," she dismisses, before she swipes Evie's hair onto her back and moves into her neck.

Evie uneasily smiles, "Mal." before she presses her away so that she faces her. "I'd really like to talk. Please."

"Fine," Mal huffs, before she places her hand on Evie's back, unzips the leather shirt, and smirks. "About what?"

"Mal," Evie's eyebrows raise, before she strains her neck to look over her shoulder and attempts to zip the shirt back up.

She stops her and pouts, "What's wrong? You don't want to be mine anymore?"

"Of course, I do," Evie sadly faces her. "I just want to talk too."

Mal's eyes flash bright green, before she runs a thumb over Evie's neck, "You haven't happened to have any wine recently?"

Evie feels the sharp nail run over her skin, and her frown deepens, "Too many calories." Mal frowns again, humming, and Evie's mouth gapes, "What were you planning to do? Drink my blood until you were buzzed enough?"

"Well, it worked for Ben," she eyes up, "you know, when he was fucking Chad."

"They never had sex, Mal," Evie softly speaks, before she tears up. "I can't believe you. You would risk killing me just to have it?"

"Eves," she reasons.

"No," Evie interrupts. "I'm not healthy. I know that. I'm lightheaded all the time, and when I do eat, it's definitely not meat." The tears fall to her cheeks, "Do you really think I have enough blood for you, when I don't even get enough nutrients to keep everything up."

"E," Mal frowns.

"I don't get iron or any of that other crap that helps the circulatory system," her pitch raises. "Anorexics are already at high-risk for heart failure, and you would do this?"

"I wasn't thinking," Mal calmly says, before she reaches for Evie's shoulders; however, she pulls away and folds her arms. "Evie. I… I like you too much for you to die." She doesn't say anything. "What can I do to fix this?"

"Get out of here," Evie breathes. "Do what the doctors say and get out of here."

"Okay." Mal nods, "I can do that." and Evie breaks into sobs. "Oh. Eves." Mal wraps her arms around her tight.

"You almost left me," Evie cries. "You were going to leave me."

"I know," her eyes shift in realization.

"You didn't even say goodbye. You didn't see if I was okay. You didn't kiss me or admire my hair or—"

She sobs again, and Mal holds her closer, shutting her eyes, "I know, Eves. I'm so sorry."

* * *

"You still have high blood pressure and a high heart rate," Dr. Roberts informs.

"I use the stairs," Ben excuses.

"You've been sitting in a chair for thirty minutes," he counters. "That excuse won't work this time." Ben wets his lips, and he questions, "You don't drink energy drinks by any chance?"

"No," Ben half laughs. "I could be in the middle of drinking one of those and I'd fall asleep."

Belle notices his smirk, "Don't get any ideas."

Ben frowns again, "It can't be worse than what I'm currently doing."

"Actually," Dr. Roberts counters, "you passed your blood draw. Whatever you're doing, it's not currently impacting you."

"Really?" he inquires.

"I do want you to keep better track of your medicine and supplements." He takes a moment, "That being said, I can tell you now that caffeine will not help your heart."

"I don't understand," his mother intrudes. "He's young. He's active. How could this be happening to him?"

Ben rubs his hands, before the doctor answers, "Carnivores are at higher risk for heart problems. The way store-bought meat is preserved, the sodium levels can affect a person's blood pressure negatively."

Ben frowns up at him, and his mother comments, "But you said he passed the blood draw. Wouldn't that check for sodium levels?"

"They were on the higher side," he informs, before he faces Ben. "Maybe you would like to look into a hunting permit?"

Ben eyes off, and she says, "We get our meat from the butcher. Is that not good enough?"

"That is better," he cautiously comments, before he turns to Ben again. "You have no idea where the extra sodium could be coming from?"

"Uh," Ben takes a breath, before he shakes his head. "Nope."

"Is there sodium in blood?" she questions.

"Yes," he immediately answers.

"How much?" she asks.

"I don't recall the math," the doctor warns, "but if it can be directly related to daily recommendations… let's say eighty per pint. Sodium is water soluble, so it can stay in the system three to five days."

"How much blood should he be having?"

"Mother," Ben widens his eyes at her.

"It shouldn't be the staple of his diet." He explains, "All carnivores are different. Some need very little, while others consume more; however, no carnivore I'm aware of should need more than a gallon a week. If they do, it's not for subsistence."

"And how much of that could he get from steak?" she questions.

"That depends on how it's processed. The blood often found in meat is usually more of just a protein. It doesn't have everything in it that blood would, but in some ways that is better." He looks at Ben, "After all, so long as you're eating right, it's only the protein you would need."

"So, theoretically, he could survive off of just steak for that?" she suggests.

"Not all carnivores can." He nods, "But if that's all Adam's been doing, then I see no reason why it wouldn't work for Ben as well."

She smiles at Ben, "It looks like we have some work to do."

Ben takes a deep breath, "Ugh. Yeah."

"It's okay if you don't want to give it up," Dr. Roberts replies. "It's just not something you can have all the time."

"It's fine," Ben frowns at him. "I really don't like blood anyway."

After a moment Belle inquires, "Can it ever be a sexual desire?"

Ben runs a hand over his face, before he stands and darts for the door, "That's it. I'm out of here."

"Ben. Wait," Dr. Roberts calmly commands, before he faces Belle. "The heightened senses of some hybrids can make that a desired experience." He looks at Ben, "It just can't be a regular part of that activity. Okay?" Ben nods, and he nods in return. "Alright, then."


	42. Family

**Family (Thursday Evening, July 12****th****)**

"I can't believe they want to unclaw her," Ben complains, as he and Evie walk up the stairs. "How is she going to… you know?"

"Defend herself?" Evie shakes her head, "Mal was using them to hurt herself." She places a hand to Ben's arm, and he faces her. "Mal," she uneasily says. "She's using her nails to cut herself. She was going to kill herself with them. They need to be cut."

Ben frowns, "Those nails are the only reason I didn't hurt her."

Evie glances down, "They'll grow back." before she continues up the stairs. "Have you seen Jay? He should know about all this."

"No." He thinks, "I haven't."

When Evie reaches the top of the stairs, she sees Jay at the dining table, "There."

When Ben steps into the hallway, Jay frowns at him for a split second, before he watches him place some food onto his plate. Ben strides into the dining room, sits beside Evie, and eyes over the spaghetti noodles, meat sauce, cheese bread, steamed vegetables, and banana moelleux. Evie scoops up some vegetables, but when she stops placing food onto her plate, Belle comments, "Something with calories."

Evie gives her a look, "This does have calories."

Ben wets his lips, before he takes Evie's knife, cuts the banana dessert into fourths, and then into eighths. He places a small piece onto her plate, "Three hundred calories."

"What's that?"

Ben hears the gruff voice, and suddenly his chest feels heavily. He turns to him, "What?"

"That," his father points to his arm, and Ben eyes from his short sleeve to him. He lunges at him, pulling his arm.

"Adam," Belle's eyes widen.

"This," his father grips him harder, and Ben swallows.

"A band aid," he quietly answers.

"The color," his voice raises.

"It was the only one they had," Ben asserts.

"You don't bleed."

"I got a blood draw," he tries to explain.

"On your arm?" his father doubts.

Ben sighs, "No."

"Adam, please," Ben's mother urges.

He turns to her, "Did you even see this? Pretty soon, he'll start wearing jewelry again."

Evie and Carlos give each other a look, before Belle counters, "Cord necklaces are hardly—"

"The country will think he's weak," he angers, and Ben seethes, trying to get out of his tight grip.

Belle looks from Ben to Adam, "It's a good thing the kingdoms are no longer at war, then." Adam grumbles, and she places her hands on his arm. "Adam. Please. It's just a band aid."

"That glittery blanket he got?" Adam reminds her.

She frowns, "You heard him." before she nods once at Ben. "That was for Mal."

"And you believe that?"

She calmly comments, "Ben wouldn't lie to me." He grumbles again, and Belle nods towards Ben, "Now. Let him go."

"What?" Belle nods towards Ben again, and Adam notices his grip. "Oh." He lets go and folds his hands in front of him. "Are you, uh… okay?"

Ben eyes down, whispering, "I'm fine." He shakes his head and goes to grab the meat sauce, but then Evie interrupts, "Are you seriously going to eat that?"

"Why not?" he questions.

"Well, look at it," she points out. "The oil and grease have already separated from the sauce—and just imagine the fat."

Ben slowly lets go, "You're right. I shouldn't be having this anyway." He looks at his father, "It's your money. I should be buying my own stuff."

"Nonsense," his mother intrudes. "You promised us you would eat twice a day, so eat."

"No," Ben's father counters, and Belle gapes at him. Adam reasons, "If the boy wants to be independent, let him."

"He needs to eat," she insists.

"And he will." Ben's father turns to him, "Isn't that right, Son?"

"Of course," Ben's eyebrows raise, before his eyes shift and they furrow.

"You're not going to eat," Jay accuses. "You're just going to bury yourself in work."

"And what makes you think that?" Ben challenges.

Jay's voice raises, "Who do you think Mal complains to when you and Evie do this all the time?"

"I get busy," Ben excuses.

"You're not busy now."

"Ben," his mother softly speaks, "if you don't have your own food, why don't you just eat with us for tonight?"

"I have protein bars in the office," Ben frowns at her. "I'll eat later."

"Never heard that one before," Carlos mutters.

Ben gives him a look, "I paid you back. What do you want from me?"

"I'd like you to eat something other than me," Carlos yells, and Ben falters.

His mother turns to him, "Ben?"

He places a hand to his forehead, "I was having a day."

"And when was this?" his father sternly inquires.

"Before the calendar," Ben murmurs.

His mother nods, "Well." before she points her fork from him to the meal. "I want you to eat something decent." Ben shakes his head, and his mother sighs, "Honey. Please. For me."

He huffs, narrowing his eyes at her, "Fuck you."

"Excuse me?" his father's eyes widen.

"Not," Ben lets out a breath, before moving a hand over his eyes.

"You're going to speak to your mother like that?" he disbelieves.

Ben sadly gapes at him, "She said she wouldn't do that anymore."

"So, it's her fault now?" his head tilts.

"No," Ben cringes, facing the table with shut eyes.

"Adam," Belle interrupts. "Please. Let's just eat."

"You're going to let him get away with this?" he asserts.

"He's embarrassed enough," she reasons.

"He—"

"He didn't mean anything by it," she reassures. "Ben's working on…" She eyes from him to Adam, "Himself. He just got upset that I broke my promise."

He eyes between them, "What's this promise?"

Belle takes a moment, "Ben has set boundaries so that he may get his thoughts in order. By calling him honey and asking him to do something for me, I broke those boundaries."

"Parents ask their kids to do things all the time," Adam complains.

She thinks, "Teenagers can disobey their parents' instructions. When I ask Ben to do things, he can't. My wants mean more to him than a typical child."

"That's not your fault."

"And it's not his," Belle defends, before she picks up her fork again. "We're working on it. So, Adam, please, may we just eat?"

Adam watches her take a fork full of spaghetti and grumbles, before he takes a forkful of his own, "Ben."

"No," he persists.

He gives him a look, "I was going to say, you're free to leave."

Ben eyes over the others, shifting in his seat; however, when he stands up, his father coughs, "Ugh. Spicy."

Belle notices his horse voice, "Adam?"

He drinks from the glass of milk, "I'm fine." but when he starts the spaghetti again, he coughs worse than before.

"Father?" Ben eyes over him.

"I have to, uh, consult—" He waves the rest of his sentence off, and after he leaves, Ben looks from his mother to the spaghetti sauce. He leans over the sauce, and when he sniffs it, he brings a hand to his mouth, stifling a cough of his own.

"Ben?" his mother questions.

He faces her, "You couldn't taste that?" She shrugs, but before she can speak, he turns to Jay, "Garlic isn't going to kill me. You know that, don't you?"

"What are you talking about?" his mother intrudes.

"He's still mad about Mal," Ben's voice raises. "He's trying to kill me."

Belle gapes and looks at Jay, "Any words?"

Jay glares at Ben, "You deserve it, you mother fucker."

"Get that stuff Audrey's cook gave Mal." Ben frowns, "I'll happily take it myself." before he shakes his head, tears fill his eyes, and he turns away.

"Ben," his mother calls after him. She shouts, "Hon—" before eyeing towards the ceiling and sighing. She takes a deep breath and sternly eyes Jay, "We take you into our home, and this is how you repay us?"

"No," Jay counters. "Just him."

"You actually did it?" Carlos surprises. "I thought you were joking."

"Since when do I joke?" Jay crosses his arms.

Evie shakes her head, "Mal would be so disappointed in you."

"Well, Mal has a problem with solving her problems," Jay's voice raises. "Don't kill your father. Don't kill Uma or Hook or Ben. She'd rather kill herself."

"You think this is going to save her life?" Belle intensively inquires.

"Yes," Jay's eyes widen at her. "Because, once someone is dead, they can't hurt you anymore. She would be safe. She would be happy."

"She wouldn't be happy," Evie whispers.

"I don't care if she hates me for it." He turns back to Belle, "She would thank me eventually. Because, above all, we have each other. We're the only family we can count on."


	43. Conditioning

**Conditioning (Thursday Night, July 12****th****)**

"Thank you for coming, Lucinda," Belle says after opening the door.

Fairy Godmother steps inside, "It's no issue. Really."

"I just know if anyone can get through to him, it's you," she says.

She holds up a hand, "You don't need to explain. It's important that he's separated from Ben while he's got this line of thinking."

"Me?" Jay disbelieves. "Ben's the problem here."

Fairy Godmother turns to him and smiles, "Nice to see you too. How are things?"

"You're not going to get me to change my mind," he asserts.

"For your sake," her eyebrows raise, "I hope you're wrong."

* * *

Fairy Godmother glances at Jay crossing his arms, before she faces the road again, "Would you like to tell me what your plan was?"

"Last year Ben was avoiding garlic like the plague," Jay irritably responds. "Turns out it's just too spicy. The fuck? I thought he was allergic."

"So, you were going to kill him through anaphylactic shock," she assumes.

"Through what?" Jay gives her a confused look.

"Through his presumed allergy," she elaborates. "You thought he would die from eating the garlic."

"I guess," he mumbles.

"And then what?"

"And then… what?" he questions.

"What were you going to do after you killed him?" she inquires. "Surely, you know the police would thoroughly investigate the death of a royal—the country's king, no less."

"Nothing," Jay evenly responds. "I'd let them do their job."

"And if they figured out it was you?" she questions.

He continues to stare out the window, "People are stupid. They'd probably just think it was the cook."

"But if they did find it was you?" she asks again, but he's unable to answer.

A minute passes, and Jay says, "Wouldn't it be easier to take me back to the Isle?"

"We're not giving up on you that easily," Fairy Godmother immediately answers. "You're a victim of your circumstances—circumstances we may very well have made in the first place. We at least have to try to get you better."

He cautiously narrows his eyes at her, "Get me better?"

"When was the first time you thought about killing?"

He takes a long moment, arms settling into his lap, "I don't know."

She nods, "And have you ever killed before?"

Jay sighs, "No."

"Good. Let's keep it that way."

"I really want to do it, though," he informs.

Fairy Godmother takes a moment, "Jay. This isn't the Isle. I'll forgive anything any of you had to do there, but this is a good place with decent people. All you have to do is put your concerns forward, and people will take the effort to understand." She suggests, "I'm sure Ben would have been willing to talk this through with you. He's very diplomatic—like his mother."

"He's a monster," Jay voices.

"You wouldn't call Mal that," she points out.

"That's different."

"How?"

"It just," he frustrates, before he trails off. "I really just need to kill him."

"To keep Mal safe," she comments.

He thinks, "To keep everyone safe."

"You're safe here," she reassures.

"Safe?" Jay disbelieves. "Mal almost killed herself, because Ben attacked her."

"He didn't mean to do that," she reminds him.

"And Carlos," Jay rages. "You know what he did to him? He drank his blood, until he was practically dead. And I don't care that that masochist asked for it."

"You need to stop calling him that," she frowns.

"But he is," Jay insists.

"I know," Fairy Godmother sternly says, before she parks the car and faces him. "Carlos and you have been very forthright with everything—as you should—but you need to stop calling him that, especially in front of others. He cannot control his sexuality any more than you can change your skin color." Jay keeps silent, and she takes a deep breath, "Sorry. I shouldn't have yelled." She faces him, "All I'm saying is you can't sex shame him every time he makes some mistake. He's just a kid, Jay, even younger than you are."

Jay frowns, "It gets him in trouble."

"Maybe it does," Fairy Godmother accepts, "but just as Carlos needs to figure out how to keep himself safe, you need to figure out how to keep others safe."

He glances down, "You think… it's a part of me."

"You saw your father kill your mother," she says, "and you had to see him every day thereafter. I'm sure—"

"I want him dead," Jay interrupts.

She nods, "Being raised in that kind of environment can prompt certain conditioning. My hope is that conditioning is all it is."

Jay takes a breath, "What if it's not?"

She frowns, "Then we send you back to the Isle, where you will have the freedom to be yourself and do whatever it is you need to do."

Jay eyes down, "But Mal would still be here. Everyone would still be here."

"If things go well," she solemnly says, "yes."

"I want to be here for her," he proclaims.

"Then you need to get better," Fairy Godmother instructs, but he doesn't respond. "Have you had dinner yet?"

Jay shakes his head, "That kind of got interrupted when Belle told me to pack." and he crosses his arms again. "Evie got to eat. She wasn't even allowed to talk to me."

"Evie's unwell," she reminds him. "I'm sure Belle just wanted to make sure she didn't get distracted."

Jay glares out the window, "Nice crib."

"Crib?" she questions.

"House." He turns back to her, "How long am I staying here?"

"That depends on you."

He narrows his eyes, "Depends on me? The fuck kind of answer is that?"

"A fairly common one," she reasons. "Now, come on." They step out of the small, blue car, and when they make it to the sidewalk, she continues, "I'm sure Jane has been anxiously waiting for us."

Jay places a hand on her shoulder and puts up a hand, "Wait. How much does she know?"

"Jay," Fairy Godmother calmly responds. "It's fine."

"It's not fine." He whispers through gritted teeth, "She squeals to you about everything."

"But I already know," she counters, "so what are you worried about?"

"Mother?"

Jay turns to see Jane at the doorway, fear in her expression, and he lets go of the old woman. Fairy Godmother sighs, "Right. Now, then, follow me." She walks past him, and Jay frowns as he follows her, eyeing Jane over as he walks past her and into the house. The entrance area is an office, and a fish tank sits near the wall. Jay walks over to it, and Fairy Godmother inquires, "Do you like fish?"

He eyes over the array of colors, "Only if I'm eating them." before he taps the glass.

"Don't do that," Jane worries. "You will hurt their ears." Jay smirks at her, tapping the glass twice more, and she complains, "Mother."

"Don't antagonize him," she warns, and Jane carefully observes Jay. "Let's go upstairs, now, shall we?" Jay follows her, and when they reach the top, it opens to living room connected to a small dining area. Jay looks through the columns of the half wall and notices the spotless kitchen. "Something wrong?"

"No." He cautiously turns back to the blue and white living room, "It's just really clean."

"A cluttered space leads to a cluttered mind," Jane chimes in, and Jay gives her a look.

"It is true," Fairy Godmother calmly defends, and Jay faces her again. "Perhaps staying here will offer you some clarity." He looks over the area again, and she nods him over, "Now, for the hallway." Jay walks behind her, as she moves past the kitchen. "Door on the right is the bathroom. Door on the left is Jane's." She moves forward, "On the left down here is mine, and you can stay in the guestroom on the right." She turns back to him and smiles, hands folded in front of her, "Any questions?"

Jay notices the string hanging from the ceiling, "And that?"

Fairy Godmother looks over her shoulder, "Ah, yes." before she turns back to him. "That would be the attic."

"It's nothing but personal files from the school," Jane informs, and Jay gives Fairy Godmother a look.

"Just lesson plans, that kind of thing," she reassures, before she looks between them. "Why don't we sit for dinner? You can share any concerns you may have."

"I already found something," Jane informs.

"I'll still make something," she says, before she remembers. "Oh. Right." She smiles at Jay, "You should know that I did put a barrier around the house, so you won't be able to leave."

Jay gives her a look, "I thought you needed a wand to do barriers."

"A wand is used to pinpoint and enhance powers someone already has," Fairy Godmother explains. "All the wand did was allow me to make them bigger. The house is small enough, where I can put a barrier around it without a wand."

Jay takes a deep breath, and she sympathizes. "I know this must be hard."

"You don't know anything," Jay yells at her. "He's still out there. Hurting people."

"Let's say Ben does kill someone—which he has not yet," Fairy Godmother entertains. "Would you be any better than him, once you do kill him?"

"Yes," Jay immediately answers.

There's a long silence as Fairy Godmother falters, and Jane interrupts, "How about dinner?"

* * *

Jay lays on his back and runs through the contacts on his phone, before he picks a number and a picture of a blond guy pops up, "Hey, William. You up?"

"I can take a few minutes," he yawns. "What's up?"

"Not much," he frowns. "I'm on lockdown at Fairy Godmother's."

He raises an eyebrow, "Fairy Godmother's?"

"Yeah," Jay places an arm behind his head. "I'm not getting along with Ben, so they're separating me from him."

"Must be serious."

"Well, I did try to kill him," he evenly answers. "So, yeah."

"You tried to kill him?" William's voice raises, before he looks around and cautiously comments, "Can I ask why?"

"Well, you heard he assaulted Mal," Jay reminds him, but his blue eyes look away. Jay's brows furrow, "What? You don't believe it?"

He sighs, "It's not that I don't believe. It's just that Ben's family gets a lot of bad publicity. I'd like to wait to hear a statement from him, before I decide what I think."

"It happened," he asserts.

"Or maybe she misinterpreted it," he counters.

Jay's jaw drops, "Fuck you."

"Look, man," he sighs. "I—"

"Shut up."

"Jay," he tries to reason.

"Not you," he makes a face. "Ruby's trying to call."

"Jay," he continues, "I'm not saying Mal didn't feel violated. I'm just saying maybe there's another side."

"You know what?" Jay points out, "There is another side. Ben's entire family is fucked up. That's the other side."

"Jay," he frowns.

"Adam slapped Belle," he informs, "just because she was defending Mal."

He takes a moment, "I don't know the context of that situation."

"Since when is slapping someone okay here?" Jay yells.

"Since when is killing someone okay?" William counters.

His eyes widen, "Would you stop calling?"

"Do you need to get that?"

"No." He irritably responds. "I'm not dealing with my fucking girlfriend right now." before he rejects her call again. "You know, Ben didn't just hurt Mal. He's hurt Carlos too. He needs to be punished."

William takes a minute, "Look. I'd rather save this discussion for when Ben gives his statement and I have all the details."

"He's not going to give a statement."

"Yes, he will," William reassures, "and if he doesn't, I'll get my mother on it."

"Your mother?" Jay questions.

"Snow White. She's a reporter."

He narrows his eyes, "Isn't she like twenty?"

"No," he counters. "She's like… She doesn't like to say her age. How old is Queen Belle again? I remember reading that my mother's three years younger."

Jay's eyebrows raise, "Your mother's in her forties?"

"Is she?" William questions.

"How the fuck don't you know that?"

"She's aged well," he reasons.

"No kidding," Jay disbelieves. "What is she, a vampire?"

William's frown deepens, "Nice guess." and when Jay gives a look, he looks away. "You know, she never actually died. The dwarves just thought she was dead, because she tends to breathe shallowly."

"So, the apple wasn't poisoned?" he questions.

His blue eyes face him again, "Just your everyday sleeping potion."

"Wait," Jay thinks. "What's a vampire doing eating an apple?"

He smirks, "Well, red's just an appetizing color."

Jay eyes over him, "Are you a vampire?"

William shrugs, "I like meat. I can see in the dark." before he laughs. "I'm more than athletic. If that makes me a vampire… then, maybe." He suddenly frowns, "You know, just don't tell anyone. I don't want to get kicked off the tourney team."

Jay grits his teeth, "Stop calling. I'm saying no. Take a hint."

"You look like you want to kill her," he observes him.

Jay takes a deep breath, "I swear, if she doesn't leave me alone, I'm going to break up with her." His eyes shift, "Anyway. My point is Carlos can't defend himself."

"That's it?" he inquires. "You're just going to hang up on your girlfriend, so you can talk about your ex-boyfriend?"

"He wasn't my boyfriend," Jay denies.

"Either way," William reminds him, "what are you doing trying to kill the king? I thought you liked it here. You've made a life for yourself here."

"I know," Jay irritably interrupts.

"If you kill the king, you will be sent back to the Isle of the Lost," William warns him. "And if that happens, you won't be given another chance."

"If it keeps people safe," Jay reasons, "then it's worth it."

"But Ben isn't the only bad apple in the barrel," he counters. "You won't be able to keep Carlos or Mal safe if you're not here for the next poisoned apple—if this apple is even the poisoned one in the first place."

"He is," Jay confidently answers.

"Just think about this," William pleads. "You have it good here. Do you really want to give it up, because Ben's made some mistakes?"

"Walking down the wrong alley is a mistake," Jay evenly responds, before his eyes narrow. "Almost killing Carlos and forcing himself on Mal means war."

"You're not going to win this battle." He explains, "Even if you do manage to kill Ben, you will get sent back to the Isle of the Lost and everyone you care about will be here."

Jay glances down, "If I get sent back to the Isle, then I get to kill my father."

William sighs, "Look. I'm not giving any suggestions, but… you don't need to be banished to the Isle to kill your father. I know Ben well enough to know he would let any of you visit your parents." He falters, "You would just need him for it."

"I don't want anything from Ben," Jay sternly replies.

He yawns, "Sorry, but I'm too tired to think of any other way to help you."

"I don't need help," Jay rejects.

"Alright, then." He partly smiles, "Gute Nacht."

"Good Night," Jay repeats, before he ends the call and looks at the clock. It's three in the morning. He should be feeling tired now too, but he doesn't. It's hard to after everything that's happened, and— most importantly— that beast's still alive. He could be killing Carlos right now. Jay hurries for his number and calls. He doesn't pick up. Jay tries again, and this time the platinum blond shows on the screen, "Hey. How's it going?"

"Um," Carlos eyes around. "Fine."

"Who's there?" Jay accuses.

"What?" his face scrunches. "No one."

"You were looking around."

"Yeah," Carlos eyes off again, "because it's what I do." His blue eyes meet him again, "I'm nervous and submissive as hell. You know that."

"Right," Jay recalls.

"So, why are you calling?" Carlos asks.

"Have you talked to Ben?" Jay questions.

"Uh, no?"

"Don't," he commands. "I don't want you to."

Carlos gives a look, "You can't keep me from talking to people."

"He's dangerous," Jay asserts.

"I don't care," Carlos yells. "I'll talk to Ben if I want to talk to Ben, and you're not my boyfriend. So, just fuck off."

"Carlos," Jay shouts as the call ends, and he throws the phone at the wall, watching the phone break down the middle before he hurries over to it.

The door opens, and Fairy Godmother looks around, "Jay?" He kneels to pick up the pieces, and his breathing shakes. "Jay?" Fairy Godmother sits beside him, "Are you okay?"

"He's not staying safe," Jay grits his teeth, as he fumbles with the phone pieces.

"Here. Let me," she offers, taking the pieces from him and putting them back together.

He faces her, tears in his eyes, "You need to let me out of here."

When the phone lights up, she hands it back to him, "You know I can't do that."

"Carlos is in danger," his eyes widen.

"I understand," she places a hand to his shoulder. "I'll speak with Belle. She can keep them apart."

"Like that'll work," Jay doubts. "Ben doesn't sleep."

"They can lock the doors between the East and West wings," she lets him know.

"You think a door's going to hold him," he cries. "Ben's a fucking beast."

"We can come up with something."

"Come up," Jay huffs. "No." He shakes his head, "We need to end this now. I'm not waiting for Ben to find the right time to kill him."

"He's not," she counters.

"He almost did it before," Jay informs, "and Carlos isn't staying away and—"

"I'll take care of it," she calmly comments. "You just need to stay here and—"

"I can't just stay here and do nothing," he shouts. "Please," he holds onto her arms. "You just… You need to let me kill him."

She frowns, "I'm sorry. I can't do that."

Jay shakes, tears filling his face, before he leans onto her shoulder and sobs, "Please." He let's out a long breath and whispers, "Just… please."

Fairy Godmother places a hand over the back of his head, "There, there. It's okay."


	44. Feel Better

**Feel Better **

**(Friday Morning, July 13****th****)**

There are two taps on the door, before Belle opens the it and shouts, "Ben." He lets go of the machine, eyes wide, and a loud bang soon follows. She shuts the door and steps inside, "What are you doing? Did the doctor clear you for this?" Ben fails to speak. "You could have hurt your shoulder again."

"Father hurt it first," he excuses.

She sighs, "Just tell me why. How could you be so reckless?"

Ben eyes down, "Father was right. I am weak." before he gulps and faces her. "I should have been able to escape him, break free, but I couldn't."

"So, you go and lift weights," she half laughs before shaking her head. "How's breaking your shoulder supposed to help you?" He eyes the floor, and she steps forward, "Ben. You're smarter than this." There's no other solution. If his mother won't let him leave, if he can't become strong enough to fend off his father, then he might as well be dead. "You know better than to do something like this." Every plan he's made over the years to make his life better, squandered by his parents, because his plans are considered foolish and his contingencies are irrationally idealistic. "This is not a solution."

"I get it," Ben shouts. "I'm an idiot. Can you leave now?"

She gasps, "That is not what I said."

"Please," he tears up. "Just go."

"No," she asserts. "I will not let you hurt yourself like this."

"I'm not." Ben hits his wrist against the metal of the weights' machine and seethes, holding onto the wrist hard, before his pitch raises, "It's done. Okay?"

"Ben," she softly speaks.

The tears slide to his cheeks, "Just go."

"Ben," she says again.

"I said go," he roars, before he covers his face with a hand and shakes.

"Ben?" his mother unsurely inquires.

He whispers, "Just fucking leave." and after a long moment, he hears the door shut and sobs even harder.

* * *

Evie notices someone pass the door, and she hurries to see who it is, "Ben?" He halts, and when she steps towards him, he slowly turns around.

"Hey, Evie," he frowns.

She eyes over him, "What's wrong?"

"What's wrong?" he repeats.

"You feel tense," she notices. "Did something happen?"

"I can't do this right now," Ben turns back around.

"What's wrong?" Evie questions, before she sees Ben stand in front of Carlos's door and count the chocolate bars in his hands. "Ben. What are you doing?"

He widens his eyes at her, "I need you to go."

"Ben. You shouldn't do this when you're upset."

"Who says I'm upset?" he counters.

"Are you kidding me?" she disbelieves. "It's coming right off of you."

He narrows his eyes at her, "If you don't like it, you can leave."

"Ben," she whispers. He knocks hard on the door. "Just think about this." He shakes his head and knocks again. "Are you even hungry?"

He lets out a breath, "Very." before he knocks again.

"Ben," Evie tries to reason, before the door opens and Carlos shows himself.

One click and then another, Carlos snaps the lighter, and he lies back on the bed as he watches the flame flicker. With each snap, the metal burns hotter. He holds the button down, and his breathing speeds up as the heat increases. A vibrant sensation runs through his body, and he tries to steady himself, his thumb and hand shaking as the delightful sting fills him. If he could just keep his thumb there and continue this feeling, but then there's a knock. He takes a deep breath. If he can just keep his thumb there for another minute, and the door pounds again. Carlos lets go, "Damn it." and places the lighter back inside the drawer. He heads for the door, glances down, and goes back for a pillow, before there's a third knock and he strides over to open it. Ben holds up five chocolate bars, and Carlos gapes, "Now?"

Ben looks over him, "Are you doing something?"

Carlos presses on his back, "Get in here." before he notices Evie.

She steps forward, "I'm coming too."

Carlos stops her, giving a look, "Don't be weird." before shutting the door. He shakes his head and goes back to the bed, resting his arms over the pillow that lays on his legs.

"So, uh," Ben begins.

"The wrist this time," Carlos instructs. "I want to be awake for it." Ben deeply frowns, and he nods him over, "Come on."

Ben sits down, handing him the chocolate, before Carlos sets them on the bedside table and offers him his wrist. Ben wets his lips, "I still don't…"

Carlos sighs, "You and your performance issues." before Ben faces him. "Are you this bad in bed?" Ben glances down, and Carlos rolls his eyes, "Right. Well, don't worry. I'll just start it for you."

Ben watches Carlos take a threaded needle from the drawer, "Why do you have that?"

"I, uh, stole it from Evie," he answers.

"No. I mean," Ben sighs, "why do you have it."

Carlos pauses, eyeing up at him, "You know I like science?"

"Yes," Ben confirms.

"Call it an experiment," he discloses. "I've been sewing thread through my skin and pulling at it."

Ben's brows furrow, "Why?"

Carlos shrugs, "I wanted to know what would happen." before he takes the thread off and points the needle towards his wrist.

"Wait," Ben panics.

Carlos faces him, "Did you want to do it?"

"No. I just," he stresses before letting out a breath.

"You did this last time too," Carlos recognizes, before he places the needle onto his wrist. "You're here, because you need it."

Ben eyes from the wrist to him, "And if I don't?"

Carlos frowns at him, "It's still nice to feel needed." before he refocuses on his wrist, pressing the needle through the skin. He takes a deep breath and inches it in more, before he pulls the needle out.

Ben watches the blood slowly surface, bringing Carlos's wrist closer to him, before his teeth tense and he sucks on the wound; however, the blood doesn't make it past his tongue, and he uses his front teeth to cut for more. Carlos feels the pinching, as he cuts deeper and deeper in, but after a minute the nipping stops and sucking continues. Carlos takes a deep breath, eyeing down, before he notices the difference in Ben's pants. He's enjoying this. What would happen if he got him to enjoy it more?

Carlos places a hand on Ben's knee, but he doesn't seem to notice. He moves his hand higher up his leg, and there's still no negative response. He rubs back-and-forth, moving a thumb over the end of the bulge, and Ben bites hard. His hand rests there, as he catches his breath, and he realizes there was no further retaliation. Maybe it wasn't. Maybe he just wanted more. There's one more pinch, before Ben sucks again and Carlos feels his tongue move into the circular wound of his skin. It stings, but it's pleasant. It's more than pleasant, and his hand tightens as he releases. He moves it again, steadily faster until Ben gasps. Carlos lets go and watches Ben take in the fresh air. He observes him, until he feels the stickiness and looks down at the small hole in his wrist, a layer of blood seeping through the pale flesh. "Are you okay?"

Carlos keeps his wrist turned up but partly smiles, "Yeah. Fine."

"Are you sure?" Ben questions, as his eyes shift from the wound to him. "It looks a little… lasting."

He frowns, "It's not any worse than what my mother's done."

"I don't want to be compared to your mother," Ben frowns in return.

"Right," Carlos quickly comments. "Um. So, you." He faces him, "Was it… good?" He watches Ben wet his lips. "I did something wrong, didn't I?"

Ben takes a moment, "Okay. Look." and he hesitates. "This was fine, but you need to know…"

"You don't like guys," Carlos assumes, before his eyes shift. "Except, I thought you kind of liked Chad."

Ben runs a hand over his mouth, "Um. Chad." He takes a breath, "Chad messes with my head almost as much as my mother does. I don't know what's up with him, but…" He sighs and places a hand to his head, "Let's keep the guy girl thing out of this. I already told you it was fine. I wasn't thinking of who I was with when we were doing this. It's fine."

"Then what's the problem?" Carlos questions.

"I don't like sex," Ben whispers. "I don't like sex and I don't like blood, and no one believes me but it's the truth. Okay?" He shakes his head, "With this, I wasn't thinking about what I was drinking or where I was being touched." The tears intrude his eyes, "I was just so upset… I needed to feel good."

Carlos softly says, "I'm sorry."

Ben's voice crackles, "It can't happen again."

"Which part?" Carlos questions.

Ben shakes his head, "I don't know. It's all…" He gulps, "You know, there's just some days I can't deal with any of it. It's all so hard."

Carlos takes a moment, "What's hard?"

"Everything."

Carlos thinks, "What about sex is hard?" before Ben faces him. "Is there a reason you don't like it or… do you just not?"

He shakes his head, "I don't know, Carlos." before he sighs. "It's just…"

"Ben?" Carlos tilts his head to see him.

"I don't feel good."

"You don't feel good doing sex?" Carlos questions.

"No," he places a hand to his head. "Now. I don't feel good now."

"What's wrong?" Carlos concerns.

Ben sighs, "A cold shower will fix everything." but when he stands, he immediately falls to the rug.

"Ben," Carlos panics, before he kneels and pushes the hair from his face. He's warm. "Ben?" He grits his teeth, "Damn it." He shakes him, "Ben. Wake up." but there's nothing. He scans the room before rushing to the bathroom, turning the cold bath water on, and running a washcloth under it before bringing it back to Ben. He places it onto his forehead, "Ben." He makes a noise, but his eyes stay shut. Carlos shakes his head. He has to get him to the bath, but how's he supposed to carry someone taller than him, even if it is just a few inches? Carlos sits him up, before he rolls his eyes, "Isn't he like injured?" He lets out breath. Which shoulder was it? He huffs, "Whatever." before he wraps his arms around his torso, stands to his feet, and drags him to the bathroom. He sits him on the bath edge, "Ben?" There's no response. "Well, ready or not…" Carlos shakes his head, "He literally just said he doesn't like—" before giving an irritable look. "I swear, if you give me flack for this—" He maneuvers Ben's t-shirt over his head, unbuttons his slacks, and pulls him up as he tugs them off.

"Carlos?" Ben tiredly questions.

"Yes?"

He takes a moment, "Are you undressing me?"

"Um," he unsurely responds.

Ben's eyes crack open, "You are."

"You're welcome," Carlos comments, he moves Ben's feet into the bath.

"That's cold," he complains.

"You wanted a cold shower," he reminds him.

"Not this cold," he takes his feet out. "You'll break my… I'm tired."

"You have a fever," Carlos corrects, before he turns on the hot water.

"Right," he recalls.

"I thought you took something for that."

"I do," Ben mumbles. "I take so much, I'm out."

Carlos shakes his head, "You're impossible."

"I'm dead," Ben shuts his eyes.

"Not yet," Carlos counters. "Get in the water."

Ben grumbles, "But it's over there."

He gives him a look, "I can push you in."

He moans, "It's so far."

Carlos nudges his arm, and Ben falls into the bath, "There. You made it."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 07/25/2019

-**Pinkcrazyness** I was hoping for a more detailed comment, but you posted it almost immediately after I did the update so I can't complain. Thank you.

**Megan** Yeah. When I looked up the D3 release date I found out about him too. I just didn't mention it, because I don't follow actors and I thought it would be more respectful to leave the mourning to people who actually knew about him and his career. With what I've just learned he seemed like a great guy, and it is sad he isn't with us anymore. As far as the fanfiction goes, Mal and Evie were given permission to date by Ben. I don't think they will be using the terminology for it, especially since it's illegal (the law may not be enforced, but since they're not well liked someone could use it as an excuse to get them into trouble). I plan on having Mal and Evie go on a movie date when Mal's released, though, so yes. They are dating... and Ben is going to completely lose himself. It will be fun... or sad. You decide. My point is, since I plan on both Ben and Evie to date Mal by the end of this fic, enjoy the Malvie time. Because, at some point, Ben starring as Damsel in Distress is going to need to be saved. (I hope that wasn't too much of a spoiler).


	45. Have Me Now

**Have Me Now **

**(Friday Morning, July 13****th****)**

When Carlos walks into Evie's room, she stands up, "Are you okay?"

"I'm going to need to steal one of your headbands," he evenly responds.

Her thin brows furrow, "Why?" as she steps towards him. He slowly turns his wrist over, and she sighs, "Oh, Carlos."

"Anyway," he continues, "if Belle sees she's going to worry, and we don't want Adam getting on Ben's case, so…"

She goes over to the desk to grab a black headband, before she strides back to him, "Here." He wraps the soft mesh around his wrist, and she shakes her head, "I told Ben it was a bad idea to see you like that."

"It's fine," Carlos dismisses.

"No, it's not," Evie insists. "You have a hole in your wrist. You don't know what damage has been done or if your hand will even move the same."

Carlos holds up his hand and flexes his fingers, "I'm fine."

She sighs again, "Where is Ben?"

"Cooling off," he glances down. "He kind of got feverish, so… yeah."

"Feverish?" she questions.

"Well, yeah," Carlos comments. "Even his medicine's not helping right now."

Evie places a hand to her head, "I need to sit."

Carlos guides her over to the bed, "Here."

She sits down and looks up at him, "So, Ben. He's like… He's sicker, now?"

"I think it's stress," Carlos contemplates. "His father was so ruff on him, and you know how things with his mother are."

"I can only imagine how Ben must feel," she frowns, "loving someone who's in love with such a…"

"Beast?" he offers.

"Monster," Evie faces him. "Did you see Belle? She didn't even do anything."

"She talked to him," Carlos corrects.

"Still," Evie sadly states. "It must be so crushing."

Carlos eyes off, "Must suck to love your mother like that."

She examines him, "Carlos."

"I just mean," he scratches the back of his neck, "that it must suck to… you know."

"You miss her, don't you?" Evie asks.

"No," Carlos counters. "Jay was right. I just miss the way she fucked me over." He shuts his eyes and sits next to her, "Why am I so messed up?"

"We're all messed up," Evie inputs.

"Yeah, but," Carlos lets out a breath before facing her. "I've had dreams about her, dreams where she chains my hands above my head and…"

"You don't need to say anything," she says. "I know."

"And all I can think about is just going back there to see her."

"You don't like your mother like Ben likes his," Evie softly speaks.

He meets her dark brown eyes, "And the dreams?"

She takes a moment, "Maybe you liked the way your mother hurt you, but that doesn't mean you like her like that." She quiets, "You're just thinking about her, because she's the only one that's been willing to hurt you like that." Carlos eyes down. "I think, maybe, what you really need is to just move on and find someone who hurts you—and not because they're angry or evil—but because they care about you and know you need it."

"I'm starting to think there is no one else," Carlos mumbles. "I mean, it's not like Jay was ever comfortable… He doesn't mind killing, but when it comes to this…"

Evie watches him shake his head, "There's someone out there for you."

"This is Auradon," he whispers. "No one here's going to want me, not if they have to do that." He stands from the bed, "Thank you for the headband."

"Carlos."

"I have to go check on Ben," Carlos interrupts, before he saunters out of the room.

* * *

"Feeling better?" Carlos questions, as he notices Ben sitting back on the bed.

"Yeah," Ben nods. "A bit. I'll have to go out to buy more medicine, though." Carlos nods in return, and he hesitates, "Look. Uh." He stands up, "What happened with the…"

"The hand job," Carlos supplements.

Ben awkwardly smiles, "Is it a hand job, if you never actually touched it?" Carlos shrugs, and he continues, "Anyway, um. No more of that. If we do this again, it's not going to be with that part in it. Okay?"

"Okay," Carlos accepts.

"Alright, then."

After Ben walks past him, Carlos starts, "If you don't mind me asking…" and Ben twists back around. "Why don't you like sex?"

Ben wets his lips, "I'm not sure. I think, maybe…" He lets out a breath, and his eyes shift, "I don't get to be myself when I'm put in that… when I do that thing with someone."

"What do you mean?"

He shakes his head, "I don't know how else to say it. It's just… it's better with Mal. It is, but… I still feel like things are—that there's things that would be wanted of me, things that I don't like to do all the time. And then there's the sense thing. Everything just smells too much."

"How's it better with Mal?" Carlos questions.

Ben scratches the back of his head, "Well."

"Is it, maybe, because she's more assertive?" he suggests.

"Assertive?" Ben asks.

"I've seen you talk with her or, uh, her flirt with you," Carlos informs. "Do you maybe like being the one things are getting done to?"

Ben takes a minute, "Maybe." before he frowns at him. "Does that make me weird?"

"No," Carlos answers. "There's someone out there for you."

"Someone other than Mal," Ben interprets.

"Ben," Carlos starts.

"No," he interrupts. "I know." His eyes lower, "She should have better." Ben takes a deep breath before facing him, "I had my chance, and I lost her."

* * *

"Oh," Belle remembers. "I got a voicemail from Fairy Godmother. I'm supposed to keep you two apart." She points a fork between Ben and Carlos, "So, no mingling."

"Mingling?" Ben questions. His mother says a word in French, and he nods, "Right." He shares a look with Carlos before drinking from his protein shake, "Okay."

She sighs, "You need more than that."

"Until I have money," Ben frowns, "I'm having what I have." He shakes his head, "I spent the last of my money on that stupid medicine."

Belle widens her eyes at her husband, "Adam."

"He's made his choice," he immediately responds.

"Why do you always have to be so stubborn?" she questions. "This is his life we're talking about."

"Things can't be that bad," Adam dismisses, "if he's still buying soda."

Ben stands from his seat, "I'm going to the office."

"Ben," his mother calls after him, but he continues on into the hallway, down the staircase, and across the foyer. He opens the office door and goes to pull a twenty-four pack out from under the pull-out couch, hulling it behind his desk, before he sits down and the door opens.

He places a Diet Coke onto the desk, "Not now, Mother."

She strides forward and sets the blender bottle in front of him, "You forgot this."

He moves it aside, "Thanks." before he drinks from the soda.

She sighs, "Please tell me you didn't spend the last of your savings on that." He holds the can closer, and she shakes her head, "Ben. You needed that money."

"I need this," he frowns before taking another drink.

"More than your medicine?" her voice raises. "Why? What about it is so—"

When she places a hand to her head, Ben runs a thumb over the smooth edge, "It's here for me."

"Here for you?" she disbelieves. "That's nothing more than a batch of chemicals created in a lab. I'm your mother. I'm here for you."

Ben stares at the can, whispering, "It doesn't feel like it."

She watches him take another drink, "Ben. I'm trying."

"I know you are."

"Then, what?" she sadly asserts. "What must I do to make you feel like I'm here for you, let you drink from me like you drink from that can?" She gestures towards it, and Ben clutches the can closer. "I'm your mother. You know I would do anything for you."

"I don't want you to."

"You must want something," she insists, moving his bangs away from his face.

Ben grabs her wrist and widens his eyes at her, "I want you." before he stands from the desk and rounds it. "I just want you." He eyes over her, stepping forward, "This one time." before he places one hand on her hip and moves her hair with the other. He takes in her sweet scent, inching forward, and sucks on her neck.

"Ben. Please."

Ben bites his lip, tasting the blood, as his hands grip the can, "I want nothing from you."

"You'd rather have that can?" she doubts.

"Yes."

She watches him finish the can, set it aside, and pull out another one. "Ben?" She moves to see the soda case, and her mouth gapes, "Explain this." Ben eyes away from her and reaches for the can; however, she hurries to grab it.

"Hey." His eyes widen, "That's mine."

"No," she asserts. "We're going to discuss this."

"Give it back," Ben grits his teeth, trying to reach for it, but she keeps it behind her back.

"Why?" she counters.

"It's mine." Ben backs her against the desk, "I want it." before his expression falls. She's so close. Her warm brown eyes and soft lips, inches away, and her neck is so free and open.

"Ben?" she cautiously asks.

"I want you," he frowns, his hands clinging tighter to her arms. He stares at her neck, "If I had all of you, you would be mine forever."

She softly speaks, "You know it doesn't work that way."

"But I really want you, and you smell so good," Ben justifies.

Tears fill her eyes, "Would I die if you do this?"

He whispers, "I just want you to be mine." before he runs a thumb over her mouth. "Your lips are so soft." He hesitates, "May I kiss you? Once?"

"No, you can't kiss me." The tears fall to her cheeks, and he wipes them away. "Ben. This isn't right."

"Then why does it feel so right?"

"I don't know," she immediately responds. "But you know it's not. You wouldn't have put forth boundaries if you didn't."

Ben's mouth cracks open, "I implemented boundaries, because I wanted to be respectful to you and how you felt." She eyes up, and more tears fall. He wipes them away, "Mother."

"How can you call me that?" She shakes her head, "How can you still call me that, knowing you feel the way you feel?"

He lifts a shoulder, "It's just a name."

"Just a name," she sadly breathes, eyeing down.

He tries to lift her chin up, but she looks even further away. "Mother."

She gulps and hands him the soda can, "Is this what you wanted?"

Ben sets it hard onto the desk, "Mother."

She sees his insistent eyes, "Have me now."

"What?" he disbelieves.

"In whatever way you want me," her voice strengthens, "do it now."

Ben wets his lips, "You can't want that."

"Mother is more than just a name," she asserts. "It means I will do whatever to takes to keep you happy and well. If… having me does that for you, then I'll allow it."

Ben gapes at her, "I'm not going to be happy if you're not."

She offers a pained expression, "There must be something I can do for you."

He nods, placing his thumbs in his pockets, "You can leave."

"Ben," she sighs.

"Please," Ben's frown deepens. "I really don't want to hurt you."

She lowers her head and eyes the twenty-four pack, "Whatever you're feeling, I really don't like you trying to use soda to deal with it."

"Give me an alternative."

She faces him, "If drinking from me helps you stop the soda, I would do that for you."

Ben's eyes shift, "I'm not sure it would."

"But we could try it," she pressures.

"Mother," Ben sternly eyes her. "If I drink from you, I won't be able to stop." She quiets, and he scratches the back of his head. "You should go." She doesn't move, merely frowning up at him, before his mouth gapes. "Oh. Right." He takes a step back, but she still doesn't move. Ben awkwardly smiles, "Have a nice night."

She nods with pursed lips, "You too." before she moves out of the room.

* * *

The door bangs against the wall, the chair rolls back when Ben stands, and he watches with wide eyes as his father barges into the office. "What did you do?" his blue eyes pierce him.

"I, uh," Ben falters.

His father meets the desk and grab's Ben's collar, "What did you do to her?"

"I—I don't know what you're talking about," he stammers.

"Your mother," he shakes him, and Ben shuts his eyes. "She's been crying for the last three hours." Ben's eyes open and he gulps, before his father gruffly asserts, "Now, tell me. What did you do to her?"

"Nothing," Ben whispers.

His father shoves him towards the wall and makes his way around the desk, "You expect me to believe that?" He traps him against the glass windows, "She talks with you and then becomes a complete wreck for no reason?"

"No," Ben eyes down.

"Then what?" his father hunches over.

Ben faces him, "I asked if I could kiss her, and she said no." His father grumbles, and he tiredly responds, "I swear, I didn't do anything."

"You think that is nothing?" his father softly speaks, and Ben's frown deepens. "You should be disgusted with yourself."

Ben wets his lips, "I know."

He shakes his head, "What am I going to do with you?"

Ben meets his eyes, "You should kill me."

"You would take the easy way out," his father sternly eyes him, "but you must know that if you kill yourself, your mother may not survive either."

When his father fails to explain, Ben shakes his head, "What do you mean?"

"You mean the world to her," he informs. "After trying to have a child for so long… If you decide to leave this world, I may not be enough to keep her here." Ben's eyes shift, and his father continues, "Unless you want to be responsible for your mother's death, you will remain here and suffer the consequences of your actions. Am I clear?"

Ben nods, "Yes."

"Good," his father shifts in his stance. "Since you don't eat with us anymore, you don't need to sit with us either. Have your shakes in here or something."

Ben nods, "You know, I think that's a good idea." and his father suspiciously eyes over him before turning away.


	46. I'd Be Yours

**I'd Be Yours **

**(Saturday Afternoon, July 14****th****)**

Ben peeks into the library, and when he sees his mother look at the double doors, he sighs and opens them. He takes a step forward and folds his hands, "How are you?"

"Fine," she evenly expresses from the red couch. "Thank you."

"I, um," Ben glances down, before he gulps. "I just wanted to make sure you were okay… Father said you were really upset last time."

She sets the book aside and meets his hazel green eyes, "I'm not upset with you."

"That's not what I asked," Ben steps forward. "I asked if you're alright." She fails to speak. "Mother?" She eyes down. "If it's something I said this morning—"

"I told you," she stands and faces him. "I'm not upset with you." She nods once, "You were just being honest. I'd rather have that than have you hold this in and perhaps, possibly, act on it later."

"I would never want to hurt you," he quietly comments.

"There's a lot of people you would rather not hurt," she frowns at him, "and yet, you do it anyway." He opens his mouth to speak, but then she steps forward. "I know it's not your fault. You're just ill."

"Mother," his voice shakes.

"But I would like to know something," she steps closer. "I saw the calendar after our interaction. You already drank before our, uh, talk."

"Yes," Ben confirms.

"From who?" Ben's eyes lower, and her eyebrows raise, "Carlos?" Ben meets her brown eyes, and she shakes her head, "He's just a child. You can't be drinking from him all the time."

"I know," Ben whispers.

She walks up to him, "But what I'd really like to know is why you were thinking about my blood, when you'd already had your fill." He eyes over her, and she questions, "What? Is this just some emotional thing, for you to be close to someone—close to me?"

Ben bites the inside of his bottom lip, "Perhaps."

She takes a moment, "If I were to give you a hug, would you think of biting me?"

He frowns, "Probably."

She nods before sighing, "I don't know how to help you, then." Ben doesn't speak. "How am I supposed to stop you from drinking so much, if I can't solve the underlying problem?" Ben lifts a shoulder. "The clinical term is called donating," she informs. "If you don't need that much blood, people shouldn't have to be lowering their ability to function just so you can have it."

"I know that," Ben tiredly comments.

"Do you?" she questions.

"I don't even like blood," Ben discloses. "I hate myself every time I have it." His mother quiets, and he continues, "I wish I could be normal, that I could just eat something and feel full, that I didn't have to smell everything all the time, but this is what I am. I smell someone nice, and if I'm hungry or upset, whether I want to do it or not—which I never really want to—I act on that smell."

"The smell, you say?" his mother frowns.

"Well," Ben thinks, "yeah."

"Have you tried that vaper gel for colds?" she suggests.

Ben offers an unsure look, "You think that would work?"

"You wouldn't be able to smell anything else," she answers, "but you wouldn't get distracted by any smells either."

Ben partly smiles, "That's a good idea."

She smiles back, but as she starts to speak a vibration comes from her pocket, "Hold on." She answers it, "Dr. Roberts?"

"What do you mean?"

"Mother?" Ben concerns.

"Well, where is she now?" she disbelieves.

"Mal?" Ben questions.

His mother holds up a finger before sighing, "Yes. That's good."

Ben tilts his head and hears the doctor comment, "I'll keep you updated on the situation, should anything else happen."

"Yes," she says again. "Thank you. Have a good day."

When she puts the phone back into her pocket, Ben asks, "What happened? How's Mal?"

His mother stresses a smile, "Just a little thing, really." before she falters. "Mal can breathe fire now."

"Breathe fire?" Ben shocks. "Like, fire coming from her mouth?"

"I believe so," she uneasily responds. "Dr. Roberts hypothesizes that she couldn't do this before, because there was alcohol in her system and her body knew it could be potentially dangerous—at least to the environment she lives in."

Ben awkwardly smiles, "Maybe I should have talked things through with her the other day." before he scratches the back of his head.

"Speaking of the other day," his mother continues on, "I got a call from Snow White. She'd like to do that interview with you on those rumors of what's happened to Mal."

Ben eyes off, "You promised me I could speak in French."

"Everyone from Charmington knows French," she dismisses.

"Snow White lives in WindigBerg," Ben disbelieves, "not the French Quarter."

"She's a reporter," his mother reminds him, and when he looks away, she places a hand on his shoulder. "But I see your concern, and I will confirm with her."

Ben sighs, "Thank you."

* * *

A few hours earlier, Mal watches a red-haired nurse guide her way into the room with a cane, and she rolls her eyes. How's a blind nurse supposed to keep her from escaping? Mal smirks, eyeing from the nurse to the doorway, before she steps towards the door.

"Security is outside," she warns, and when Mal turns towards her, she watches the nurse set the foam tray onto an empty area of the bed.

Mal frowns at the foam lidded cup of milk and the meat and butter sandwich, before the nurse turns around, Mal places her hands onto her arms, and she meets her blue eyes, "When those guards leave, you will come back and get me out of here."

The nurse frowns, "You're cold." before she nods. "I'll let Dr. Roberts know."

"I want to see Ben," Mal asserts.

She takes a moment, "I'm sorry, but hybrids aren't allowed in your room right now."

"Hybrids aren't allowed to see me," Mal disbelieves. "Who's supposed to give me heat?"

"You will have to take that up with your doctors."

"The only people I know who give me heat are hybrids," Mal frustrates. "Who the hell do they think they're going to let touch me?"

She falters, "I'm sure that's not—"

"Never mind." Mal thinks, "It's been three days. I'll be out of here soon."

The nurse hesitates, "I heard your stay has been extended to the week."

"A week?" Mal grits her teeth, before she shoves her into the padded wall, "They're keeping me for a week?"

"Uh." She hopefully smiles, "Don't kill the messenger?"

Mal eyes over her, "Great idea. You look a lot more like the size I'm used to having for meals than that sandwich over there." and she smiles when she notices the nurse's fear.

The door thumps against the wall, and security pulls Mal away from the woman. One of the guards picks up the cane and places a hand on the nurse's back, "Let's get you out of here." and after they leave, the large guard keeping Mal away, lets go and hurries out the door. Mal rushes after them, but then the door beeps shut.

Mal slaps the door, "Ugh." before she moves over to the one-way glass and changes her eyes to inferred. They're still there. She pounds, "Let me out!" and the heat signatures face her. "I said, get me out of here," she shouts, and she steps back as a wave of heat escapes her breath. As her eyes change back to jade, she catches a flash of blue. Mal steps towards the glass again and blows a breath; however, nothing happens. She tries again and again, but there's still nothing. The alcohol withdrawal must be causing some sort of hallucination or sight abnormality. She huffs, and there it is: the fire. She takes a deep breath, letting it out in the same way, and there it is. Mal smiles, moving her face closer to the glass, and she watches as it starts to melt away. The guards come into view, their expression filled with shock and fear, before Mal steps through the dripping glass. She eyes over them once, before she turns down the hallway.

Dr. Roberts stands in front of her, "Mal. What are doing?"

"You can't keep me here," she furiously whispers, before she shivers and places her hands over her arms.

"We're just trying to help you," he calmly comments.

"By locking me in a room without a heat source and feeding me three stupid sandwiches a day?" she seethes.

"Belle did say eventually you would need more," he acknowledges. "I'm sorry."

"You're damn right," Mal grits her teeth. "I could have four thousand calories and not gain any weight. I bet I haven't even been getting two thousand while I was in there."

"Why don't we check your weight now and see a nutritionist, now, then," he suggests.

"I don't want a nutritionist," Mal strides forward and grips his arms. "I want out."

"It's not safe for you to go through withdrawal unsupervised."

"I don't care," Mal shouts, before she glows her eyes. "I said—" She takes in a deep breath and slaps where she'd been stung in the neck; however, it's too late, and she falls to the floor as the world turns to black.

* * *

"Mal?" Dr. Roberts inquires. Her eyes slowly open, and he asks again, "Mal?"

She sits straight up and gasps, "What happened?"

"Mal," he lifts a hand. "It's okay."

Her eyes dart over the windowless room, "Where am I?"

"You've been transferred to another room," he informs. "I'm going to ask you not to catch this one on fire, as there is only brick underneath the padding and—"

She holds onto her arms, "I want out of here."

"Mal," he starts, before he watches her blow onto her hands.

"Why isn't it working?" she shakes, before her eyes widen at him. "What did you do?"

"A sedative is unlikely to—"

"How long was I out for?" she panics.

"A couple hours." She stares at the white floor, and he comments, "Mal. It's okay."

"No, it's not," she hisses. "Anyone could've done anything to me."

His blue eyes lower as he frowns, "Mal. No one did anything."

"How do you know that?" she insists.

"I was with you almost the entire time," he reassures.

"Almost the entire time," she points out.

He feels a cold breath come from her, "Mal. If someone had done something, wouldn't you be warmer?" She stares past him, and he comments, "There's cameras. If you'd like, I can arrange to show you the footage."

Mal gulps, "Yeah. Okay."

"Okay," he partly smiles. "Now, it seems that breathing fire lowers your body temperature to the point that you can't use that fire anymore." She faces him, and he continues, "I will allow someone of your choosing come to give you heat, given that they are willing."

"Lonnie," Mal answers.

"I thought you wanted to speak with Ben?" the grey-haired doctor counters.

"Ben needed space," Mal shivers. "He said I needed to stay away, and like some slut, I just couldn't listen."

"He feels a similar way," Dr. Roberts informs. "Ben can't stand that he could have hurt you the way he did."

"I'm not the one with claw marks on my face," she counters.

"You were just defending yourself."

"Would you stop it?" Mal tears up. "Ben told me straight up that he would hurt me if I got too close to him. It's my fault I'm in here, not his."

He hesitates, "Maybe you think you could have avoided this, but even if you could have, that doesn't make you a slut or otherwise."

"Come on," Mal disbelieves. "If it just keeps happening… it has to be me."

"No, it's not." He informs, "You're just a victim of your circumstances."

"Everyone keeps saying that," Mal seethes. "What the hell, that even mean?"

Dr. Roberts watches her hunch over, shaking, "Let me contact Lonnie. If you don't try to hypnotize her, I'll allow you to speak with Ben after. Okay?"

"Yeah," Mal whispers.

"Good." The doctor points to the camera, "No one who would hurt you can get away with it, alright?" Mal nods, and he stands. "Alright." He walks to the door but then turns around, "I will also be making sure you have a better dinner tonight, so no eating anyone. Okay?"

Mal half laughs, "Yeah. Okay."

Dr. Roberts smiles, "I'll be back shortly."

* * *

When Ben enters the room, he folds his hands and awkwardly smiles, "Mal." She looks up at him, and he scratches the back of his head, "So, how are you? Or, uh…" Her eyes shift as she frowns, and he steps forward, "So… Lonnie."

Mal gives him a look, "Are we really doing this again?"

"No," Ben quickly responds. "Sorry."

"I should be dealing with Evie's jealousy," she comments. "Not yours."

"Jealousy," Ben thinks, before he shakes his head. "Right. Um." He moves to sit on the other side of the mattress. "So, how are you?"

"Hungry as hell." Mal eyes over him, "Are you okay with being this close to me?"

"Yeah, um," Ben glances down. "I have, uh, Vicks in my nose. The smell is having me not smell anything really right now."

"So, you don't feel like biting me right now?" Mal frowns, before she puts a hand to her mouth. "No one wants me."

He watches her eyes water, "Mal. That's not true."

"Then have me." She takes his hands, "If you want me, have me."

"Mal." Ben wets his lips, "If I were to have you, I wouldn't be able to stop." His frown deepens, "You would die."

"But then you would be whole," Mal reasons. "If you did it, I'd be yours. Forever."

When Ben stands, his hands slip from hers, he turns around and walks towards the wall, hand covering his gaping mouth. It's the same thing he told his mother. Ben turns around, "And what about Evie?"

"Evie," Mal partly smiles, standing up. "That sweet, innocent princess, she deserves way better than me." Mal walks over to him, "At least with you, I could give you something." before she places her hands on his shoulders. "Even if it's just a minute."

"Mal," Ben sighs. "You need help."

"I just want my life to mean something," Mal clings onto his shirt. "For me to mean something to someone." She leans in closer, "If you take me, I just know you would remember me. I would mean something to you."

"You already mean something to me." Ben breathes, and the smoky scent starts to invade his senses. He turns his head away, "Mal. I think it's not working… I can smell again."

She places a hand to his cheek and turns his head towards her, "Take me."

"No." He grips her wrist to take it off him, "Mal. I said no." before he grabs her other. "I want you to live, so I can have you in my life. Why can't I just have you like that? Why do I need to have you by taking your life?"

"I'm not good for you," Mal evenly answers. "This is the best thing I can do for you."

"Mal." Ben tears up, "You're the best thing that's happened in my life."

She glows her eyes, "You should have me." and a moment later Ben twists Mal around, pushes her against the wall, and bites into her neck. The sweet, smoky taste floods his mouth, and he places a hand onto her hip. He swallows the blood, and with each gulp, he just wishes for more, hoping it will never end; however, the blood slows, and he bites deeper. Something pulls him away, and he fights his way back to her. He has to have her. He has to have all of her.

* * *

When Ben's eyes crack open, he turns his head away from the bright lights, and he sees the grey-haired doctor sitting beside him, "Dr. Roberts?"

"How are you feeling?" he questions.

Ben swallows, "Like I have chalk in my mouth."

"Don't you mean charcoal?" his mother counters. "You did just try to eat a dragon."

He sees the light shine over her and sighs, "You're beautiful."

She notices his cocky smile, "And you're delirious." before she motions the doctor to the sink. "Would you like to get him some water?"

Dr. Roberts moves over to the sink, "It's probably the sedative." before he fills a paper cup and goes to hand it to Ben. "He may be a little blunt."

"Because, he wasn't already," Belle jokes, before she looks down at her son. "Didn't you just eat yesterday?"

Ben suddenly frowns, "I remember everything."

"Perhaps you'd like to tell us?" he requests.

Ben wets his lips, "She, uh." before he meets his blue eyes. "She hypnotized me. She said she wanted her life to mean something… that she wanted to be a part of me forever."

"Isn't that what you told me," his mother recalls, "that if you drank from me, I would always be a part of you."

"Yeah," Ben cringes, before he unsurely turns to the doctor. "Am I just crazy? How could she have thought something I was thinking?"

"It's not an uncommon idea that something someone eats becomes a part of them," Dr. Roberts reassures. "In some older tribes there used to be rituals surrounding the idea of reincarnation or transference of knowledge through cannibalism. In one tribe in particular, the family of the deceased would be obligated to eat the body so that their family member may live on through them." He eyes from Belle to Ben, "It would be easier for a carnivore to come to that type of conclusion, since their biology already has them consume animals—even humans."

"That doesn't excuse Mal's behavior," Belle intrudes.

Ben narrows his eyes at her, "Mal? I'm the one that hurt her."

"She hypnotized you," she reminds him.

"Because, she's not well," Ben defends, "and the only person she was trying to hurt was herself." Ben turns back to Dr. Roberts, "Please, say you can help her."

"Her court-ordered therapist arrives Monday," he informs. "We will see if we can collaborate with her to see what we can do."

Ben nods, "Thank you."


	47. Boundaries

**Boundaries **

**(Sunday Afternoon, July 15****th****)**

"You're sure she speaks French?" Ben worries.

"She says she can," his mother reassures, as they exit the castle. "Just keep it simple. It will make it harder for people to misinterpret you that way too."

Ben frowns, "I don't like this."

"Would you rather have Roberts?"

Ben's eyes widen, "That's not funny."

"Why would Dr. Roberts do an interview?" his father questions.

"Not doctor Roberts," Ben stresses. "Reporter Roberts. The one time I had him, he stepped on every sentence I had. He would answer his questions for me."

"Snow's a former royal," Belle evenly responds. "Surely, she will be more respectful." She places a hand on her husband's shoulder, "Adam. I'd like you to ride up front with Travis."

"What?" he disbelieves. "Why?"

"I need an honest discussion with Ben," she explains.

"And I can't hear it?" his brows furrow.

She gives him a look, "I'm sure you will hear it."

"Then why can't I be a part of it?"

Belle purses her lips, "Because, it's of a personal matter involving Ben's wellbeing, and I don't want you influencing his answers." He eyes off, and she sighs, "Adam. Please."

"You think I don't know what this is about?" he accuses. "I'm your husband. Don't you think I should have a say in this?" Belle silences, and he straightens, "I see."

"Adam," she slowly shakes her head. "It's really not—"

"You're my wife," he shouts. "And, yes, Belle, you entertaining our son's sick fantasy is a big deal."

She sternly eyes him, "There are worse things."

"Like what?" he challenges.

"He could have fallen in love with an animal," she shouts, and he quiets. "I know what it's like to be sex shamed, and I am not about to let you do the same to our son."

"Did you, uh," he scratches his cheek, "like me better as the beast?"

"You're not much different now than you were then," she bypasses.

"So, did you or…" he insecurely questions.

"That's really not the point, Adam."

He takes a deep breath, "Then what is the point?"

"I'm not going to let you sex shame our son," she repeats.

"Oh. Come on," Adam points to him. "You can't compare incest to—"

"To bestiality?" she finishes.

"Well," he adjusts his glasses.

"I shall compare the two if I please," Belle crosses her arms. "And you are going to sit up front so that Ben and I can discuss his wellbeing without you shaming him for it."

His head lowers, "If that's what you really want."

"It is," she asserts.

He nods, "Okay, then." before he opens the car door.

Ben's mother sighs before stepping into the back, "Come on, honey." Ben follows her inside the car but stays quiet, until she composes herself. "I need to ask you, after everything that's happened the last few days, is there any possibility that you don't think of me in the romantical sense?"

Ben wets his lips, "Probably not."

She nods, releasing a breath, "Perhaps, you would like to reconsider my offer to…"

"To date you?" He shakes his head, "Mother. I can't keep thinking of you like this. I have to get over you."

"And if you can't?" she inquires, and he eyes the floor. "Ben. Every son deserves to have some relationship with his mother. It's not fair to have you isolate yourself because of this."

"What if spending time with you makes it harder?" Ben tears up. "What if no matter what we do, it's never enough for me?" He nods, "One day I could want something you would not be comfortable with giving."

"Or," Belle counters, "one day you will be with someone better for you than me."

Ben half laughs, "And how am I supposed to explain this? In ten years when I find the perfect girl and we have our own place, how am I supposed to explain these feelings to her?"

"Ben." His mother frowns.

"She wouldn't accept it," he interrupts. "She would ask why she can't meet you or why I've pushed you away, and the only thing I would want to say is the one thing she wouldn't be able to hear." He takes her hands, "I love you. And that may not change the way I feel about some other girl, but it will change the way she feels about me." Ben lets go, "Maybe it's because you understand, I guess, but I'm not going to find anyone as unjudgmental about this than you." He leans back and folds his arms, "Except, maybe, Evie, but we don't like each other like that."

"Ben," his mother reassures, "there's someone out there for everybody. I mean, just look at your father and me." He rests an arm across his legs, scratching the back of his head in stress, and she sighs, "So, perhaps that's not the best comparison, but Ben." He looks up, and she explains, "I hate to see you in so much anguish. There must be something I can do."

"Yeah." Ben faces her, "You can cover up and wear a scarf." She doesn't speak, and he glances at her neck before eyeing the floor and folding his hands, "I'm sorry. I have no right to tell you how to dress. It's not your fault I get these thoughts."

She hesitates, "Ben." before she takes a breath. "I hate to ask."

"I don't think of you sexually," he answers, before he thinks. "Not really, anyway. When I think of people I like, it's really more just their hair and general frame, being close to them." His eyes shift, "It's rare for me to actually think of sex when I think of sex."

"Then how do you know you love me more than, uh, typical?" she inquires.

"Because," Ben frowns. "I think about you the same way I think of Mal." His eyes lower, "I think about touching and holding you in ways I shouldn't. I think about taking you close and… drink." He sadly laughs, "Your scent drives me crazy. Sometimes it's so hard just being in the same room as you."

"I will look into a scarf," she promises.

"It's not just that." He meets her warm brown eyes, "You're so beautiful."

"Ben," she disbelieves. "I'm nearly fifty."

"You're beautiful," Ben emphasizes. "You're beautiful and intelligent and—"

"You're going to outlive me," her brows furrow.

Ben's frown deepens, "We don't know that."

"And we don't know you won't," she asserts. "Now, I'm willing to give you whatever it is you need of me right now, but this is a temporary solution. In twenty years, I want you to have a wife you can grow old with, and for heaven's sake, I'd like grandchildren, you know. I want you to be able to have children. The kingdom is going to want you to have children."

"There is no temporary solution," Ben irritably counters. "Haven't you heard me? I'm not taking your offer."

"Honey," she shuts her eyes.

"And stop calling me honey," he commands. "I can't keep doing this with you."

"Ben," she takes a deep breath, "these boundaries you've set clearly aren't working for you. I'm just trying to help."

"If you wanted to help," Ben accuses, "you would be supporting my attempts to overcome this, but it hasn't even been a week. You have to at least give this a chance, Mother."

Belle opens her mouth, but then there's a voice through the intercom, "Your Highness, we've arrived."

Belle presses the button, "Thank you, Travis." before she takes a deep breath and nods. "I know you're right, but I don't want you to struggle through this if it's not something you could possibly get over."

"Like you said," he evenly responds, "I find a girl to replace you."

Belle purses her lips, "Ben. You know I love you, don't you?"

"It's hurts when you say that," he informs.

"It's just," she sighs. "Why can't things just be good between us?"

Ben quiets, "I need time, and I need space. Can you give me that?"

Belle flutters her eyes to keep the tears at bay, while she nods, "Yes. Of course."

* * *

"This broadcast will go out to Charmington's News Network, and afterwards we will translate it and put it up onto our website," Snow White informs, as she sits in a red armchair across from Ben. "Now. I will be asking questions about the video and how you and Mal have fared since then." Ben bites his lip, eyeing down. "Any questions?"

Ben notices the clock counting down, before he faces her, "How personal is this going to get? I mean…"

"We're getting your side of the story," she explains. "How you portray it is up to you."

"Right," Ben nods.

He rubs his hands, and she asks, "Do you need more water or anything?"

"No," he timidly answers. "I'm good."

"It's okay to be nervous," Snow White informs, "but given the subject matter, may I suggest that you act more worried than guilty?"

Ben frowns at her, "But I am guilty."

She frowns in return, "Just share your story. The audience can decide for themselves."

"They're going to blame Mal," he assumes.

"Then defend her," the black-haired reporter urgently suggests, before a man near the large camera raises an arm and counts down with his fingers. Snow White smiles at the camera, "Good Afternoon, Charmington. Today, I have an exclusive interview with King Ben on the viral video from the hospital." She faces him, "So, Your Highness, tell us. What exactly happened that day?"

Ben meets her amber eyes, "Well, I suppose it started in the kitchen." before he wets his lips. "I've had personal problems to sort through, so a week or two before that day I had told Mal I couldn't be with her." He nods, "We separated."

"Were you discussing this in the kitchen, then?" she prompts.

"No," Ben glances down. "Mal seemed to know I needed the space, and she seemed to be okay with that." He pauses, "I, however, didn't." before he frowns at her. "The day of the hospital video, Mal and I were in the kitchen. She was being friendly, and since she was so close, I had a hard time… just not being close to her, I guess." Ben takes a deep breath, "In short, the personal issues I had, had me break up with her so I wouldn't hurt her, but on that day I invaded her personal space as though we hadn't separated at all." His mouth stays open, but he knows it will be impossible to say just how bad it had been without sharing his secret.

"What happened next?"

Ben takes a breath, "Obviously, being so inconsistent in the terms of a relationship can mess with someone's mind badly." and he gulps. "Because of things Mal has gone through before, she thought it was her fault I invaded her space." He tightly folds his hands, "She thought there must be something wrong with her for people to keep treating her like this, so she…" He takes a deep breath and faces Snow White, "She tried to kill herself. That's why she's in the hospital. She almost died… because of me."

Snow White hesitates, "In the video Mal's friend from the Isle of the Lost accuses you of assaulting her. What do you have to say about that?"

"In a way I did," Ben admits. "I didn't pull at her clothes or kiss her, but I was so close to her I might as well have." He wets his lips, "I, uh, find what I did very inappropriate, considering I was the one that asked for space in the first place."

Ben eyes down, and Snow White comments, "Some people might ask what you've learned from this."

He looks back up at her, "Honestly, I haven't learned anything. I never meant to hurt Mal or anyone, but I have." Ben pauses, "And I'm not sure what I could do to keep this kind of thing from happening again, because I thought I was taking measures to make sure no one got hurt in the first place." He straightens, "I understand I'm the problem here, and that's why I tried to take myself out of the picture… I guess, I just didn't know how to stay out of it."

"And how's Mal doing since the hospital?"

Ben's eyes shift to the camera, "She's still in the hospital." before he looks at her. "Mal is strong, but she's had a hard life. I've tried to acknowledge that in our relationship, but somewhere I've misstepped. There are times when she thinks I don't want her, where she says I can have her any way I want." He shakes his head, "But I know that's not her. She does that when I push her away, but I push her away when I know I won't be good for her." He thinks, "I don't know how to solve this, but Mal is getting the best help we can offer."

"After you two solve your individual problems," Snow White asks, "do you think you could have a healthy relationship with her after that?"

Ben sighs, "If Mal took me back after everything I've done, I'd be the luckiest person in the world." before he lowers his head. "But I've already told her she can date whoever she wants. And as much as I love Mal, I need her to be happy… no matter what that means."

* * *

\- I do plan on moving soon, so if the next post takes even longer than it has recently, I highly recommend you satisfy your anticipation by distracting yourself with my other Descendants fanfics. They're all part of the same universe, so feel free to read any... what do I have, five other stories right now? Anyway, three of them are completed and Side Problems can be read alongside this one. Like I said before, Lonnie's story has her learn about Ben's real family history. So, if you'd like to read either about her or him, then that would be the story to pick. Thank you so much for your continued support. If you're here, it probably means you already read my first fanfic of 200ch, and that's some real dedication there. Thank you so much... I think I'm going to start posting quarterly goals onto my profile page, if anyone wants to see what I plan to work on. I can't promise I'll have everything done in time, but at least you will have an idea of what I'm planning to do for the season. Have a good week.


	48. Disordered

**Disordered **

**(Monday Afternoon, July 16****th****)**

When the brown-haired therapist enters the room, Mal narrows her eyes at her, "Janis."

"Morning, Mal," she smiles, before her expression evens out. "I'm here today to see how you're doing and officially diagnose you with any disorder you may need treatment for."

"I'm aware," she irritably responds, tugging at her white clothes.

"Let's start with the obvious one," she suggests, before she opens the large book. "These are the symptoms of Alcohol Use Disorder."

"You know," Mal informs, "on the Isle, if someone drank, it would be called morning."

Her blue eyes meet her, "Just tell me if any apply." before she eyes back at the textbook. "Alcohol is often taken in larger amounts or over a longer period than was intended."

Mal shakes her head, "It takes a lot for me to get buzzed."

"That will be number ten," the therapist inputs, "a tolerance or need for increased amounts of the substance to get desired effect.

"I don't have a tolerance," Mal's eyes glow. "Alcohol just doesn't affect me. Hell. Even cyanide won't kill me. How is alcohol supposed help me, if I'm not drinking it all the time?"

"Help," she notes. "How do you think it helps?" Mal's eyes dim, and after a long pause, she questions, "Didn't you keep it in water bottles at one point?"

"Well, it's not like I drink water," Mal reminds her.

"Let me put the question a different way," she takes a moment. "You may feel like you had this much alcohol out of choice, but tell me, did it ever feel out of your control? Did you ever find yourself having more than what you planned?"

Mal frowns, "Yes."

The therapist looks at the book again, "And has your efforts to cut down on alcohol proved unsuccessful?"

Her eyes lower, recalling all the times she'd started drinking again after Jay's struggles to get her to stop, "Yes."

"A great amount of time is spent in activities to obtain or use alcohol or recover from its effects," she continues.

Mal partly smiles, "Does selling drawings count?" and when Janis doesn't respond, Mal quietly answers, "Yes."

"Do you crave or have a strong desire to use alcohol?"

Mal clasps her hands, "Yes."

"Has your alcohol use ever resulted in you failing in any home, school, or work obligations?" she evenly inquires.

"No," Mal shakes her head, before she remembers how Jay's attempts to get her to stop drinking had resulted in him getting kidnapped. Her mouth opens, but the therapist speaks before she can.

"Have you continued alcohol use, despite knowing that it has consistently caused or exasperated problems in social settings or interpersonal relationships?"

"I continued to drink after Ben and his parents told me to stop," Mal comments.

"Important social, occupational, or recreational activities have been given up or reduced due to alcohol use."

"No," she denies.

"And do you drink in dangerous situations?"

"No," she reaffirms.

"Have you continued alcohol use, despite knowing that it may have caused or exasperated any physical or psychological problems?"

"No," Mal answers.

The therapist meets her jade green eyes, "Are you aware that alcohol is a depressant?"

"A depressant?" she questions. "You mean, like downers?"

"Sure," she acknowledges. "It can lower your mental and physical abilities. It can lower your mood. Considering the reason you're in here, I'd say something like that would only make that worse, perhaps even have caused it. What do you think?"

"I think," Mal retorts, "I tried to kill myself because guys only see me as some sex toy, and I don't need a downer to off myself for being such a slut."

"So, you don't think alcohol negatively impacts your psychological state at all?" the brunette inquires.

"No," Mal firmly answers. "It helps me. Okay? It lets me forget all the shitty stuff I've had to deal with in my life, even if it's just for a single millisecond."

"Does that mean you plan on drinking again, once you get out of here?"

Mal leans back against the padded wall, crossing her arms, "I don't know. I mean, breathing fire is kind of cool, and Dr. What's-His-Name says I won't be able to do that if I start drinking again."

The therapist glances down, "And you said you don't believe you have a tolerance?"

"No," Mal confirms. "I'm a dragon. It takes a lot of anything to work on me."

Janis nods, "Have you ever taken alcohol to avoid withdrawal symptoms or have you experienced withdrawal symptoms since you've been placed here?"

"Sometimes drinking will take care of headaches, if that counts," Mal frowns.

The therapist nods, jotting down some notes, "You are currently in a controlled environment, and you have said yes to six symptoms. That diagnoses you with a severe case of Alcohol Use Disorder."

"Good," Mal frowns. "What's next?"

She pauses, "Did you attempt suicide because guys don't respect you or was it because you didn't think Ben wanted you?"

Mal's eyes narrow, "Why would that matter?"

"It will help me narrow down what you need help with," she explains.

Mal shakes her head, "No one kills themselves for one reason. Yeah. Guys think I'm a slut. Ben didn't want to date me. He only wanted me for my body." Mal gulps, "And once he had it, he was going to leave me to rot just like everyone else."

Janis nods, before she turns to a marked page, "Tell me if this sounds like you." She faces her, "It's important that you look deep. If you did anything out of impulse, I need you to think of the reason why you did it. Okay? You have to be honest about this."

Mal sighs, "Whatever."

She reads the first symptom, "Have you done anything extreme, perhaps out of panic, to avoid real or imagined abandonment?"

Mal's eyes shift, "You mean, like temporarily paralyze a prince as a warning to stay away from my boyfriend?"

The therapist's blue eyes cautiously meet her, "Yes. Something like that."

She eyes off, "I might have done something that extreme." before she leans forward. "But it was completely necessary."

"I'm sure it was," Janis entertains, before she moves onto the next one. "Do you have a pattern of unable and intense relationships that involve extremes of idealization and devaluation?"

"Devaluation?" Mal questions.

"A lack of value in a person, let's say," she explains. "Are your relationships or friendships usually intense, and do you normally go back-and-forth on whether the person should be admired and valued or not?"

"Aren't all relationships like that?" Mal half laughs, "When someone does something awesome for you, they're valuable, and when they betray you, they're not?"

"Is that a yes, then?" she makes sure.

"No," Mal's brows furrow. "Tell me. Why shouldn't I be able to judge people by the things they do?"

"Let me answer your question with a question," she calmly comments. "When you're betrayed, is it because of something they did or just a feeling you have about what they may do?"

Mal silences, "What's the next one?"

Janis reads, "Identity disturbance: markedly and persistently unstable self-image or sense of self." She faces her, "Do you know who you are?"

"Yeah," Mal evenly answers. "I'm the daughter of Maleficent."

"That's who you are to other people," she counters. "Who are you to you?"

Mal eyes off, "I don't know."

The therapist continues, "Do you display impulsivity in at least two areas that are potentially self-damaging, such as spending, sex, substance abuse, reckless driving, or binge eating?"

"Uh," Mal sadly breathes. "Yes."

"This would not include self-harm," she informs.

"Yeah," Mal's eyes widen to prevent tears. "It's still yes."

She nods, "Next one." before she hesitates. "Recurrent suicidal behavior, gestures, or threats, or self-mutilating behavior."

"Yes," Mal irritably answers.

The therapist frowns, "Affective instability due to a marked reactivity of mood, such as irritability or anxiety, usually lasting a few hours and only rarely more than a few days." Mal gives her a look, and she continues, "Chronic feelings of emptiness."

"Why are you doing this?" Mal shouts. "I get it. I'm broken. Can we move on?"

Janis sets the book aside, "You only needed to say yes to five of the criteria in order to be diagnosed, anyway."

"Goodie," Mal leans forward. "So, tell me psycho, how do you plan to fix me?"

The therapist evenly expresses, "You have a personality disorder. There is no cure. Only the symptoms of that can be dealt with. I personally suggest that we discuss any underlying issues you have, which may have led to you having this disorder."

"And which disorder is that?" Mal defenses.

"Borderline Personality Disorder. It's a disorder characterized by a pattern of instability in interpersonal relationships and self-image."

Mal's frown deepens, "That's the one Ben thought I had."

"He's been dating you for almost half a year," she points out. "That's a long time for someone like you to be dating someone. You're lucky to have him."

"You probably don't watch the news." Mal faces her, "He broke up with me."

"Because, you two weren't treating each other well, and he wanted to keep you safe," she reminds her. "If that's not love, I don't know what is."

"So," Mal sighs. "What now?"

She hesitates, "Dr. Roberts told me you have a history of sexual assault."

Mal gapes, "And who the hell told him?" before she partly smiles and eyes up. "Damn it, Ben. Of course, you would tell Belle."

"I would just like to know," the therapist continues, "if that could have contributed to the way you see relationships and interact with people."

"It's not like I forgot I got raped," Mal gives a look, "if that's what you're asking."

"Tell me what happened," she instructs.

"What happened?" Mal hysterically laughs, her eyes burning with tears. "I needed heat, I ran out of money, and this guy told me he would help me. He-arry said, okay, that it was about what I needed, and he was there." Mal nods, "He was there, but he had enough of my teasing. We were making out, he was holding me, and then suddenly he was on top of me with this grin and his fake hook holding my wrists above my head." The tears fall to her cheeks, "And then, he left. He just left, like everyone else does. Like my dad did."

"Your dad," she notices. "Tell me about him."

"There's nothing to tell," Mal shakily breathes, and a couple spouts of blue flame leave her lips. "I don't even know who he is." She shouts, "He just left. Harry left. They all fucking left, and so will Ben. Hell. He already has. And Evie." Mal gulps, "She'll leave too. They all do."

"What about your friend Jay," she inquires. "You said he's been around for almost forever. Will he leave?"

"He has a girlfriend," Mal tells her, "and if he does marry that princess, he will have no choice but to leave."

"Mal," she tries to comfort. "You will always have someone in your life. Just because a few people leave, doesn't mean they all will. And even if it feels like you're alone, there's still going to be someone looking out for you."

"Oh, really?" Mal counters. "And who's that?"

"Well," she slowly answers, "God."

"God," Mal laughs, "like the Christian God, right?" She shakes her head, "You're a witch. Your God hates you."

"The Bible was written by man," she disproves. "God may have referred to a specific witch or type of magic, and people simply didn't understand."

"You know what?" Mal's eyebrows furrow. "You and your God can go to Hell." She nods her out, "Go."

"I just want to—"

"Go," Mal grits her teeth, "before I set you on fire."

Janis gathers her things, "Have a good day too, Mal." before the door beeps, she's let out, and Mal cries where she sits on the mattress.

* * *

-**Posted**:08/30/2019

\- I'm Ba-aack. Lol. Okay. So, _Good News_: my move went very well, and I absolutely love my new apartment. _Bad News_: Walmart is cutting my shift, and I have short of a month before I "quit". I don't get sad; I just get really tired. I wasn't surprised at all, so there's no stress- which I've had more than enough of in my home life prior to moving. Thank Hades, I was able to get out. Honestly, the situation had me suicidal, and without my coworker's help to go with me to fill out the apartment application and help me move out, I'm not sure I would have made it. When I told her I wasn't sure if I'd have made it another week, she fully agreed. She even texted out old assistant manager to tell her that in her opinion I'm safe now. She's done way more for me than my mom ever has, and I still can't believe my mom had the nerve to say my coworker wouldn't help me and that no one would ever love me as much as she does. She even admitted that she was trying to keep me there. Now that I moved, she wants to see where I live. She assumes it must have been dirty and roach-infested when I moved in, when it had been the cleanest thing I've ever seen. Anyway, I'm mostly good now. Don't worry if you don't hear from me. I'm probably just "tired" from not being wanted for a job. I have a couple months rent saved up though, so if I need to, I'm all good... I did just try filling out a Subway application (because Kwik Trip didn't want me), but it must have been a wrong website, because I just ended up getting a lot of calls from JobSearch about my plans for college. I tried explaining that I don't have the money, and when they mentioned financial aid, I told them my parent(s) weren't even supportive enough to fill out their part of the FASFA, which is why I didn't go to college in the first place. That person hung up, and... Look. I got like five calls and a transfer from these people, plus two possible texts, within a span of five minutes. I've accepted that I'm not going to college and my life might even be better without that debt, and I've completely gotten over it... until they reminded me all of my years doing my very best in school and obsessing over college opportunity was for nothing. I started writing in middle school. If I hadn't taken so many advanced classes, maybe I would have had the time to become a real author (or at least feel confident in the amount of practice I've had) by now. And, of course, I'm venting, so for those of you who want to hear my Walmart story, continue. For those you want to get back to the fanfic, skip to the bolded category. 

**My Walmart Story**:

**(1)** So, a month or so ago, I saw weird things going on at Walmart and I'd heard other Walmarts got rid of overnights, so I asked the store manager what was going on with nightshift. He shook his head and said my job was safe. (This is a really funny story. Trust me.) My coworker (that I previously mentioned) had a bad feeling about overnights, and we were both convinced that despite being told that Walmart is a night-stocking store, our store is particularly big, and that they would never go to day-stocking (even though other Walmarts were trying it). Assistant Manager M (attempting to both avoid confusion and keep people anonymous) said he thought overnights would go away but only after the store remodel that comes next year. He thought we were safe until at least then. Eventually, Assistant Manager J comes to our store, because he was told his job would be safe here, but a short couple weeks later the frozen/dairy truck started coming in the morning and both Assistant Manager M and J had a meeting planned with the store manager right before an all-management meeting, for which anyone who does not show would be reprimanded. The next week M went on vacation, and the store manager talked with us individually about what our options were. When he spoke to me, he just couldn't stop saying how hard he knows this is, and my coworker said he didn't say that to her. To me, it wasn't hard at all. I knew it was coming. I asked him if this was happening a month prior, and he lied straight to my face. In order to secure one of the few nightshift spots that will remain, it will be going on by time spent with the compony and availability. Store Manager said the people being 'dispersed' from overnights would have first opportunity but that there were 50+ people to go through, so I have no chance. You need to be there for at least a year to get severance, so since I've only been with the company for half a year, I don't get anything. If you want to go to another shift, you practically have to reapply. Our old assistant manager said it sounds like Walmart's job security completely went out the window. Apparently, after this happens, word is management is getting cut too. So, even though Assistant Manager J came here because he was promised his job would be safe here, he was lied to too.

**(2)** Last week my coworker and I were asked by Assistant Manager J to switch a day and come in early to help him. He had been approved to allow overtime, but Assistant Manager S (who was standing in while M was on vacation) gave us half a point for doing that. He also told her I couldn't just change my schedule, which I did so I could have transportation to get to work and was changed by Assistant Manager J (who was helpful enough to take me home on days my coworker can't now that her kids need rides home from school). My coworker got fed up with how S was treating her, so since she had enough protected-payed-time-off, she used it to go home after lunch. Assistant Manager S fired her for it, and he made her turn her vest in. We're allowed to have multiple, so the only reason for him to do that is if he was trying to publicly shame her. She texted J the situation, and he gave her the store manager's boss's number. I told her I've heard that name a lot and I'm not sure if it does anything, and she told me she's not holding her breath. She said I could still pay her gas money to take me to work, and I offered her half of my paycheck since I'd have to quit without her. She said she couldn't do that to me, but I insisted she can at least borrow from me if she needs to because I know she'd pay me back.

**(3)** I think Walmart is broke. At our store, we broke two fuses in two weeks (for the coolers and freezers), they're cutting a complete shift, cutting people in general, and lying about it. My coworker says that someone she knows from another Walmart thinks Amazon is taking money from Walmart, so I'm pretty sure Walmart is "broke". I honestly hope something so bad happens that forces them to close the stores permanently. It's nothing against the people who work there. I got along great with 3/5 of the assistant managers I've had, and I have deep respect for them. It's Walmart as a company I have a problem with. When it gets to the point that your store doesn't run well due to greed, then you deserve to get it shut down. We recently had a CBL teaching us that they're doing these changes so that the store will survive, but as Assistant Manager J pointed out, they created overnights because day-stocking didn't work well. He thinks they will make overnights a thing again. I hope they fail before then.

**The Fanfiction**: I recently looked at the outline, and it turns out that there's only six weeks left until both the summer and fanfiction end. I didn't get to do everything I wanted to, but maybe I can fit it in later. I'm really exited for what I have planned for the fanfic's next school year. I'm especially exited for the Carlos's storylines. And Mal's. I just came up with a really good one for Mal. I don't want to give any spoilers, but it involves her going to Camp Half-Blood for a school volleyball tournament... Which leads to the question, how do I get Mal to take an interest in volleyball?

\- If you made it through my author's note, thank you very much. Feel free to comment on either the story or my life. I'd really like some comments to read. It's been a while.


	49. Child

**Child **

**(Tuesday Afternoon, July 17****th****)**

Ben walks towards the red-lit sign, which has the capital letters GHS going down, the acronym across reading General Health Store. He places his thumbs in his pockets, awkwardly smiling when the brown-haired guy behind the register notices him, "Ben. How can I help you today?" His half smiles, "Appetite suppressants or sleeping aids?"

"Uh. Neither," Ben ruffles his hair. "I'm a little… well, broke right now."

"You're kidding," he disbelieves.

Ben leans on the white counter, "Did you get my application?"

"Sorry. I thought that was a joke," he informs, before his blue eyes scan him. "Aren't royals supposed to get a salary or something?"

"Uh, yeah," Ben glances down at his folded arms. "My, uh, account is going through some things. Until it's sorted out, I'm stuck with my newer one, which has a lot less money."

"So, there's a thousand dollars sitting somewhere, and no one's allowed to use it?"

Ben takes a moment, "Try thirteen thousand." His mouth gapes, and Ben seethes, "Yeah. It's definitely not the best thing that's happened to me. I've never really had to worry about money before, you know, but now..."

"You're just one of us," he jokes.

"Noah," Ben sighs. "I don't know how long it will take for this to be settled, and, honestly, minimum wage sounds really great right now." He wets his lips, "If you could just read my application or have me fill out a new one—"

"You're hired."

"What?" Ben's brows furrow.

"If you're good enough to run the country, which I think you've been doing a fairly good job by the way, I think you can stock some boxes."

"You're not even going to think about my English problem?" Ben unsurely asks.

"You don't remember yet?" he concerns, and Ben lifts a shoulder. "If you don't mind, what did your doctor say?"

Ben glances down, "He's been focused on other problems of mine." before he wets his lips. "Honestly, I get the feeling he would just say it's stress or something stupid like that."

"Well, you have enough of it."

Ben half laughs, "Yeah. So… the job?"

"English shouldn't be a problem," Noah reassures, before he searches the counters for a weird looking phone. He holds it up, "This is a scanner. You scan the UPC to find where we have it in the store. A number with dashes will show up. That tells you which wall or shelves, the section, and the place in that section. It costs a lot of money and we only have one, so if I hand it to you, you can't lose it."

"I won't," Ben promises.

Noah sets the scanner down, "So." before he faces him. "Full or part time?"

"How many hours are those again?"

"Five to twenty for part-time. Twenty to forty for full-time," he informs. "Part-time shifts are ten A.M. to three P.M. and three P.M. to eight P.M. for one to four times a week. Full-time is from open to close for two to four days a week."

Ben bites his bottom lip, "I'm going to need part-time, then. I know I said full-time in the application, but I won't be of use to you if I have to wake up that early."

He offers a surprised look, "What time do you sleep?"

His eyes shift, "In the morning."

"How does school work with that?" he questions.

"It doesn't," Ben frowns. "I take a lot of classes, so teachers think I'm in someone else's class if I'm not in theirs. The ones who do know don't care so long as I keep my grades up."

"So, afternoon shift?"

"Four times a week, if I can," he affirms.

Noah nods, "Well, you have your choice of hours. People think family businesses don't hire anyone else."

"You're a family business," Ben recalls, and he feels his heart speed up. Sure, he's jumped through all the hoops just for being king, but they're allowed to fire him for anything: for being a hybrid, for his illnesses, or for his political and social stances.

"It's really nothing to worry about," he informs. "Just because you wouldn't be part of the family doesn't mean you would be any less part of the team."

Ben gulps, "Right." before he clears his throat. "So, uh, Sunday to Wednesday?"

He smiles, "Sounds good." before he nods over to a stool. "Sit down. If we get you in the computer, then you can start this next week." Ben doesn't move, and he raises an eyebrow, "Unless, you're busy. We can do it when you're not."

"No," Ben quickly dismisses, before he uneasily smiles. "I'm not busy at all."

* * *

When Ben walks towards his room, he notices Mal's is open. He halts. She can't be home yet, but what if she is? What is he supposed to say? Ben wets his lips and slowly steps forward, before he sighs at the sight of his mother standing over the terrarium. Of course, Mal wouldn't be home yet. Her stay at the hospital had been extended at least a week. His mother takes notice of him, and he questions, "What are you doing in here?" His mother gives him a look, before he watches her put the meat into the lizard-dragon's tank. "Right. I've forgotten that."

"Yes, well," his mother wipes her hands on her yellow dress, before she clasps them and faces him. "I thought Mal would like us to keep her mother alive, despite everything she's put her through."

"Yes," Ben uncomfortably frowns.

She steps forward, "Do I need to worry? You don't seem to be recovering well from that, uh, fall you had last spring."

Ben's eyes pierce at her. She knows very well that he blames his father for that so-called accident, but because he never touched him, his intimidation was innocent. "Dr. Roberts would point out how much stress I have in my life, and you know I have more than he knows."

"You can't blame your father for everything," she tiredly expresses.

"Because, having my account frozen, when I get a lot of my own medicine and food is no stress at all," Ben sternly counters.

"Ben," she tries to reason, stepping forward.

"It doesn't matter," he faces her. "I have a part-time job at the health store now."

"We're going to get your money back," she insists.

"No, we're not," Ben exasperates. "It's going to stay frozen, until I relinquish it to him."

"Ben," she tries again.

"Question is," Ben continues, "is if I transfer my salary to my new account, will he try to take control of that as well."

"You know very well he couldn't," she persists.

"He thinks the crown is his," Ben evenly replies. "He would try."

"He isn't going to try anything," her voice raises. "He wouldn't make a scene like that after he publicly handed the crown down to you."

"Somehow, I doubt that."

When Ben turns around, Belle shouts, "Would you quit acting like a child?" and Ben halts, staring at the hallway wall. "You're king. This money is yours. If you don't in the least transfer your salary to your new account, don't you dare blame Adam. You're adult enough to have your own separate account, so if you don't put your income into it, that's on you."

Ben strides away from the room, down the hall, and through the door connecting the wings. It's not his father's food if Evie's already made something out of it. His father probably hasn't cared for them at all. It's more likely that Evie used her own money to buy their food than his father did. If he eats something from the East Wing's kitchen, it will be Evie he owes. He might not even owe her. She'd give that food up willingly, as always. He walks into the kitchen, and she smiles at him, "Ben."

He opens the fridge, "Who's hamburger is this?"

She frowns, "It was Jays."

"Is there a pan?" Ben asks, before Evie sets one out for him and he squeezes the raw roll of meat into it.

"You're upset," she notices, but he merely uses the turner to break the meat into fourths. "Ben. What happened."

"Nothing," he dismisses. "I just think that if I put my income to my new account, my father will somehow mess that one up too." He shakes his head and searches the cupboards, "She says I'm acting like a child." before grabbing the peanut butter and a newly cleaned spoon.

"Talk about getting mom-zoned," Carlos comments.

Evie gives him a look, "Carlos. Can you go?"

"Yeah, yeah," Carlos walks over to the fridge, taking out a covered plate. "I just wanted the peanut butter cookies." He catches Ben eating out of the jar, "You can keep that." Ben stops, and Carlos peeks around him, "I thought you didn't like cooked meat."

"Damn it," Ben remembers, moving back to the stove and flipping the burgers.

Evie raises her eyebrows at Carlos, and he shakes his head, "Okay. I'm going."

After he leaves, Ben comments, "I got that job. If I'm working to get this money, I don't want my father to think he needs to take it from me."

"It's yours," Evie frowns. "You don't need to take any risks you don't want to."

"I was going to become king after high school," Ben's voice crackles. "Maybe, if I wait until then, then it will be safer."

"Yeah," Evie solemnly agrees.

Tears fall to his face, "She called me a child. She thinks I'm… just being hard."

"She's just older than you," Evie reminds him. "Older people say things like that when they don't understand something. But you know your father, and if you're afraid he's going to take over this new account too, then you have every right to not risk that." He sobs, and she places a hand on his shoulder, "Look. Maybe it's just because she doesn't have her own money and you do. She can't stand you just giving all of that money up." She leans forward, "Ben. This might not even be about you."

"But it's how she thinks of me," Ben whispers. "I'm a child. I'm her child."

"Ben," Evie sighs.

"What does he have that I don't?" he interrupts. "I mean, everything that he's done… then again, he's always so well… He acts so good around her."

"Ben," Evie starts to confess, before his sad eyes meet her and she lets the breath escape. "Maybe it's a good thing she doesn't feel what you feel. What would you do, if she did?"

Ben eyes down, "You didn't tell Mal?"

Evie hesitates, "I didn't say anything, but I'm pretty sure she knows."

Ben takes the burning meat off from the heat, "Great."

"We can give those to Carlos and Dude," she informs, but he keeps silent. "Look, Ben. I know it must hurt to see your mother with someone who's hurt you, but she made her choice a long time ago and if she can't stand by you now…" Ben eyes over her, as she struggles to continue, "There's someone better for you. You can choose who your family is."

Ben shakes his head, "Maybe that's how things work on the Isle, but here most royals stay with their families their entire lives." He grabs the jar of peanut butter, "And because I'm my father's only child, I will be here until he dies and I get the castle."

"Ben," Evie suggests, "you can change things."

His frown deepens, "I fail to see how." before he scoops the peanut butter and eats it.


	50. High Risk

**High Risk **

**(Wednesday Night, July 18****th****)**

"Hey," Jane smiles, as she sits across from Jay on the couch. "How's therapy going?"

Jay shakes his head, "I don't get the point of this."

"It's an outlet," she informs. "Studies show that people who play violent videogames are less likely commit violent offenses."

"Maybe that would work for a kid like Carlos," Jay presses pause and faces her. "But I already tried to kill someone—and for good reason."

"There's never a good reason to kill anyone," Jane disputes.

"He's going to hurt someone again," he insists.

"You don't know that," she quietly replies.

"Hell, I don't," his voice raises. "He's hurt Mal and Carlos more than once, and he's hurt others. Ask Ruby. He's hurt Audrey too." He leans forward with gritted teeth, "So, don't sit there acting like everything is fine, when all my friends could die."

"Jane," Fairy Godmother interrupts. "It's past your bedtime, isn't it?"

"Bedtime?" Jane questions, before her eyes widen and mouth gapes. "Oh. Yes. I am so tired right now." She stands and pretends to yawn, before Jay eyes off and she exits the room.

Fairy Godmother takes Jane's spot on the couch, "Jay."

"I wasn't going to kill her," he offers an annoyed look.

"I know that," she acknowledges. "I just need to speak with you about something."

"About what?" he cautiously comments.

"Well, first things first," she nods to the screen, "how are you doing with it?"

Jay looks from the TV to her, "I can't just play videogames when I have real problems going on in my life. I need to fix them."

"I was afraid you were going to say that," she confesses, before her brown eyes meet him. "Jay. I'm really going to need you to try harder on this, okay?"

He gives a look and slowly asks, "Why?"

She hesitates, "Because, I want you to be better for when, uh… How do I put this?"

"For what?" he prompts.

She frowns at him, "Jay. Um, Belle is trying to get Mal out of the hospital."

"Mal's going back to the castle?" Jay outrages.

"Belle thinks that being in the confined space too long could make Mal act predatorily, especially if she's not being fed that well," Fairy Godmother explains. "She thinks keeping Mal there would be counterproductive, so she's requesting out-patient treatment for her."

"But they have her stay in the same wing as Ben," Jay angers.

"I know," she nods, and he looks away, taking a deep breath. "Jay. Look at me, please." He complies, and she says, "I don't know how soon Mal will be back at the castle, but I do know you will want to be there for her. That's why it's important to me that you really try your hardest to get as good as you can before then."

Jay notices her tense smile, "Yeah. Okay."

"Good," she nods, before she stands. "Oh, and, I'd like you in bed by three."

"Yep," Jay continues to frown, pressing play; however, when it seems like everyone's gone to bed, he lets the videogame music play as he roams the house. He stares up at the string, which pulls down the stairs to the attic. It's the only place he hasn't seen yet. He slowly tugs on the string, carefully pulling the stairs down, before he quietly steps up into the dark attic. He turns the flashlight on from his phone, and he's surprised at just how clean the area is. There's a desk, and there's several filing cabinets next to it. The neat office area makes the holiday decorations on the other end of the room seem out of place. The cabinets have the alphabet written across it, but there's a complete drawer that has 'High Risk' printed on it. Jay kneels to open it. Inside, there are files with names: familiar names. From back-to-front he reads: Audrey Lee, Ruby O'Hare, Aziz Ali, Lonnie Li, Chad Charming, Evie Queen, Carlos De Vil, Mal, and Jay Mosbah. Jay takes his file out and sits in the leather chair, opening it on the desk.

_Jay Mosbah is one of the four villain's children King Ben has brought to Auradon Prep for the remaining 2018-2019 school year. At first glance, Jay has displayed a need for power, but as the week presses on, his theft seems less intentional and more pragmatic. It's possible his need for power is more about control and his theft is connected to an idea of survival. Jay Mosbah is the son of Jafar, previous adviser to Sultan Hamed of Agrabah. His mother is unknown and presumed deceased. _

_As the school year comes to a close, Jay has confessed that he saw his father kill his mother and that he wishes he could kill him for it. He was completely unapologetic, and he insisted that he would do it sooner or later. However, Mal played it off as a joke. She and Jay are like family, so I assume she was just trying to keep him out of trouble. She wants him to stay here in Auradon with her, but I believe Jay was serious. He said his father would be a threat to whatever life he's made for himself, that his father could kidnap him, scare his future kids, or kill his future wife, as he'd done his mother. _

\- _High Risk for psychopathy and murder. _

_Jay has come to stay with us this summer, after he had tried to kill King Ben through an allergy. He says he did it to protect his stepsister Mal and ex-lover Carlos, which he has reason to believe has been hurt and will continue to be hurt by the king. Although he's unapologetic for trying to kill the king, the idea of his chosen family getting hurt has caused him great strife. This gives the impression of more of a sociopathic mindset than a psychopathic one, which means his mind may be more environmentally influenced than biologically. _

\- _Treatment: Remind him that he can't protect his family if he's sent away and offer him an outlet to express any socially unacceptable behavior. _

Jay frowns, putting his file back into the cabinet and pulling out Ben's. _Ben Florian started at Auradon Prep the 2014-2015 school year. He is the son of King Adam Beast and Queen Belle Marie, the country's rulers. His parents have not attended any of his sport competitions or music concerts, instead being accompanied by his best friend Chad Charming's father King Charming of Charmington. His parents' story makes for many rumors, and whether they are true or not, his classmates may bring them up and even associate them with him. He stays quiet, and the only counterarguments to these rumors are made by his friend Chad. _

\- _High Risk: Bullying_

_In the 2015-2016 school year Ben's mood has seemed to worsen. He has become school-focused and withdrawn, only speaking up to defend his female peers. He will even stand up for them against other male classmates, including his best friend. As middle-schoolers are pressured to conform to their social groups, it is odd that he wouldn't go along with the things his male classmates had to say. The gym teacher, Mr. Jenkins, has reported that Ben's refused to change into his swimsuit in the locker room, opting to change in the stall instead. When the stalls become forbidden to change in, Ben started wearing his swim trunks to class beneath his other clothes. This has caused greater separation from his male classmates, and even he and Chad Charming seem to be having a hard time getting along. Ben Florian seems to display more of a feminine personality, which may be why he's uncomfortable in these ultra-masculine situations. _

\- _High Risk: Bullying and Self-Isolation _

_It's now the 2016-2017 school year. Ben's mood has become nearly expressionless, as he displays a drive to do his best in all endeavors. His parents claim to be busy and still have not shown personal interest in his schooling, even though his mother has a platform on education. Ben's opted to take extra classes, and I've accepted under the condition that his grades don't fall to a C. He claims his isolation makes him feel better and that he's been on better terms with his best friend Chad Charming. He also says he's getting along with his new roommate Doug from the reservation. If I can't encourage his parents to pay him attention, at least he's found friends to get it from. My only concern is whether he will let them. As Ben's class has matured, so has their teasing. The bullying now consists of comparing him to an animal and slut-shaming his mother. He doesn't deny any rumors, and even Chad Charming only stands up for him now under the most perverse comments. Ben keeps 'forgetting' his swim trunks for Swimming Wednesdays in gym class, so often that the coach offered an afterschool track session instead. His classmates assume it's because he's hiding something "beastly". Sadly, talking with these students and giving them detention has done little to keep them from insisting it. _

\- _High Risk: Parental Neglect, Self-Isolation, and Bullying _

_2017-2018 School Year: Ben Florian is now a sophomore at Auradon Prep. His appetite has seemed to grow beyond a typical teenager's, and his food of choice has been meat. I suspect that his father's curse may not have fully broken, and Ben may now be suffering the consequences. If his parents are as neglectful in the home as they are with his schooling, I'm afraid he may not even be aware of what's happening to him. The amount of food he eats in general suggests that he's unaware of what may help. If this carnivorous appetite starts to affect his schooling, I may have no choice but to tell him and offer solutions myself. _

\- _High Risk: Self-Isolation, Parental Neglect, Bullying, and Carnivorous Incidents _

Jay scoffs, "Incidents." before he shakes his head and continues to read.

_2018-2019 School Year: Ben will be crowned king of the country early, due to how the stress negatively impacts his father's health. Ben's still taking as many classes as I will allow, but if I knew that he would become king, I would have denied him that right this year. His grades haven't suffered much, but the extra stress can't be doing him any favors either. He's also signed a declaration for four of the villain's children from the Isle of the Lost to come to Auradon Prep for the remainder of the school year. This seems to have stressed him. He's disclosed that his parents are in no way fond of the idea. While collaborating with him, he has alluded to an unspoken punishment he may receive from his father should the Isle of the Lost children not transition easily into our society. I've tried to comfort him, but that causes him to grow more stressed. His panic is clear even through his silence. I suspect that maybe the soon-to-be King Ben Florian may be abused by his father, as I had suspected with his mother for many years now. I wish I had seen the signs earlier, and even now that I suspect, I fear I may not be able to get him to come forward. _

\- _High Risk: Probable Parental Abuse and Neglect, Bullying, Self-Isolation, and Possible Animalistic Outlash or Carnivorous Incidences _

_2018-2019 Continued: As predicted, Ben has had a few animalistic instances, which may or may not have been caused by his poor diet. He nearly never eats in the cafeteria, and when I confronted him about this, he insisted he was fine. I mentioned that in the kitchen we have anything he may need, but he said he didn't need meat. He recently found out what he is, but he seems to be trying to cling to the idea of a 'normal' life. He claims he eats, and the way he describes it, it sounds like he could be binging. A little while ago there was also an incident in which Ben become ill, and he informed me that he does have a medical condition where he has a naturally deathly body temperature. He begged me not to cause his parents any trouble, and it was only later that I learned Coach Jenkins knew about Ben's illness since he had been a child. Ben's parents had trusted him to medicate himself since elementary school, and that is outright abuse. I don't care if they were busy or that they were the king and queen of the country. There are plenty of royals who have to pay attention to their own kingdoms, and they still manage to pay attention to there children. The fact the Ben's parents couldn't even look out for ill primary school aged child just shows how much they care about his wellbeing. If I had it my way, Ben would be taken in by another royal, and his parents would be pressed charges. Sadly, as a royal, Ben has to come forward himself. It's impossible to tell just how many of Ben's problems could have been avoided had his parents given a positive influence. _

\- _High Risk: Parental Abuse and Neglect, Self-Isolation and Bullying, and Possible Eating Disorder. High stress could lead to more violent actions. _

\- _Treatment: Get Ben to Come Forward about his Abuse_

\- _Update: Ben has attempted suicide several times now. School will be let out soon. I only have a few short weeks to try to convince him to come forward. If he doesn't, I can only hope he will survive the summer. _

Jay shakes his head, "That's not happening." before he scans the drawer and pulls out his girlfriend's file. _Ruby O'Hare is the second daughter of Queen Rapunzel Gothel and King Eugene Rider of Corendelle. Starting at Auradon Prep as a freshman in the 2016-2017 school year, she has expressed a clear anger for her family, the country's rulers, and Auradon itself. She doesn't understand how her family could celebrate the traditions her mother had with the woman who had kidnapped and raised her, and she hates that all Auradon did as a country was isolate the villains from the rest of society. She had expressed interest in the death penalty, and she hates that the witch who'd taken her mother is still out there. She fears it may happen again._

_High Risk: Tyranny and Terrorism. Her depressive symptoms and family history make her a vulnerable target to cults. She may be more dangerous to those closer to her than people with whom she has no qualms. _

_During the 2017-2018 school year Ruby O'Hare has shown an interest in the law profession. She says that if evil people can't get the death penalty, she at least wants to make sure they will never see the light of day again. She's also participating in the school musical with Audrey Lee. I hope having these distractions and companionships may help ease her mind. _

_It's the second semester of the 2018-2019 school year, and Ruby O'Hare has started dating one of the villain children transfers. I was surprised to say the least, even suspected that she only wanted them close to know what they are up to, but the happiness I see from her when she's with Jay Mosbah seems genuine. I only wish I could say the same for him. I feel like he only started dating her because of societal pressures, and if his feelings aren't real, I fear that Ruby may return to her previous ideas. A villain's child manipulating her into a relationship as Lady Gothel did with her mother would be the thing to break her. Perhaps permanently. _

Jay hears a creek, and when he turns, he sees Jane. She finishes climbing the stairs, "You're not supposed to be up here." before she notices thee documents in front of him and squirms. "Jay. Those are just—"

"What do you know about Ruby?"

Jane slowly steps forward, eyeing between Jay and the desk, "Well, uh." She hesitates, "My mother spoke to Rapunzel about why Ruby doesn't seem to like her, and she told her that everyone understands that Lady Gothel, uh, loved her like her own daughter. Everyone, that is, except…"

"Ruby," Jay finishes.

Jane offers a worried expression, "Do you really love her?"

"She's hot," Jay raises an eyebrow, before he faces the desk. "But love? What even is that?" He shuts the document, "Let's just say I wouldn't go back to the Isle for her."

"That's what I thought," Jane murmurs.

Jay swivels around, "Look. I want to make it work with her."

"But you don't love her," she counters. "Not like…"

"Like who?" Jay's brows furrow, but she doesn't respond. "Carlos?"

"I," she stammers, "I don't think you're over him."

"Maybe I'm not," Jay defends, "but what the hell does that have to do with loving someone?" She doesn't speak. "Just because he's a clingy kid, that doesn't mean I love him."

She takes a moment, "He loves you."

"And that's part of the problem," Jay voices. "When we started this thing, he said he was okay with it just being a thing, but he lied. That's not my fault."

Jane sighs, "We better close the attic before we wake Fairy Godmother."


	51. The Challenge

**The Challenge **

**(Thursday Afternoon, July 19****th****)**

"That's something I never understood," Jane says, as she scoops the mac and cheese onto her plate. "What's up with you and your friends waking up so late?"

Jay raises an eyebrow, "Why do you wake up so early?"

"Well," she looks off, laughing. "It really started after magic was banned."

"Banned?" Jay notes.

"Retired," Jane nervously smiles, before she hurries, "Um. The, you know, farmers—We had to do things the human way, you know. We wake up with the sun, so we can see better." She frowns, "But that was back when all we had were lanterns and gas lamps, but now we have flashlights and floodlights. And farms are more factory based now."

Fairy Godmother notices Jay wrap a fist around his fork, "Jane." She stops and faces her, frowning. "A little early for a history lesson, isn't it?"

Jane gapes at Jay, "I'm so sorry."

"No," he takes a deep breath, straining a smile. "It's okay." Jay sighs, letting go of the fork and hiding his hands beneath the table, before he faces Fairy Godmother. "I need to go back to the castle."

"Jay," she starts.

"I need to be there when Mal gets out," he reinforces. "You can't just expect me to sit here and do nothing, when she's staying one room away from that monster."

"She's not out yet," Fairy Godmother tries to reassure.

"I need to be there," he asserts.

She hesitates, "Just to look after Mal, right?"

"He's not ready, yet," Jane protests.

"I'll behave if he behaves," Jay grits his teeth.

Fairy Godmother folds her hands in front of her, "You realize, His and Her Majesty sent you to me out of respect for Mal. And because of King Ben's faith in his declaration to bring you all here." Jay rolls his eyes, and she sternly says, "If your rehabilitation fails, then Ben will not be allowed to bring any more villain children to Auradon."

He crosses his arms, "Why should I care so long as the people I care about are safe?"

Fairy Godmother pauses, "What if someone else was chosen to come to Auradon instead of you? Wouldn't you want a chance to be reunited with those you care about?"

"But we are all here," Jay frustrates. "Your point makes no sense."

"Maybe," she nods, "but what about Evie's friend, Dizzy. Don't you think that little girl deserves a chance to come stay with her aunt and cousin in Charmington?" Jay's eyes lower. "I bet that if you had come here that young…"

He tilts his head, "You're saying there's something wrong with me?"

"No," she takes a deep breath. "I'm merely saying that your, uh, condition will not help you here." He darts his eyes from the table to her. "It will only cause you trouble here."

"Like this?" He tosses his fork into the kitchen sink, "Being trapped here, when my sister is about to get killed by that beast?"

Jane goes to grab him a new fork, "Here." and he furrows his brows. "Maybe… Hmm, just eat. Please."

"Shut up," Jay shouts at her, and she back away.

"Jay," Fairy Godmother stands from her seat.

"Look," he stresses. "I know I can't kill Ben, not if I want to be there for Mal." She doesn't speak. "Isn't that what you wanted to hear? That I won't kill him?"

"I need more than to hear it," she calmly comments. "I need to believe it." She nods down to him, "I need you to mean it."

"I won't kill him," Jay yells, before he gulps, tearing intruding the corners of his eyes. "I just need to be there for her. Please."

Her eyebrows raise, "Are you saying you no longer believe killing Ben will solve this specific problem?"

Jay takes a moment, "Like you said, I would get caught, and then the next person who hurts Mal… I won't be there for her." He sees her frown. "You still don't believe me."

"I want to," she unsurely answers. "I just know people like you will sometimes say anything that benefits you, and when it comes to Mal—"

"If it's not Ben, it will be Adam. Or someone else," Jay interrupts.

"Adam?" Jane inquires.

"And not just Adam," Jay's eyes widen. "Both of Ben's parents are worse than any of ours ever were." He narrows his eyes at Fairy Godmother, "But you already knew that, don't you? How could you put us there, knowing what you know?"

"Mother?" Jane questions.

"Belle is a victim of her circumstances," Fairy Godmother meets Jay's dark brown eyes. "Same as you. You can't—"

"Blame her?" Jay shakes his head, "Oh. I do. Ben has two parents." He points up the number of fingers, "Two. And they still fucked him up more than any of us single parent villain kids." He leans forward, "He gets hurt by his father and then gets emotionally assaulted by his mother. That's the kind of house you put us in. That's the kind of place Mal's returning to after her suicide attempt."

"The country felt comfortable knowing you were under the care of the king."

"And you want to leave her there alone," he persists.

"She's not alone."

"Yeah," Jay scoffs. "Because a skeleton and a mas—"

"Stop it," Fairy Godmother hollers over him. "This kind of thing might work where you come from, but it won't get you anywhere here."

"They're not going to be able to protect Mal," he persists.

"But you think you can?" she calmly questions.

"Yeah." Jay nods, "I think I stand a chance."

Fairy Godmother quiets, "Jay. I really want to help you."

"You don't need to," he argues. "I know I can't kill Ben if I want to stay here with Mal, and I meant it when I said I would behave if Ben does."

Fairy Godmother sits back down, clasping her hands in front of her, "Once you are no longer in my care, anything you do is under discretion of the royal family. Are you sure you're ready to return to what you describe as a hostile environment and still behave your best?"

Jay smirks, "I can promise I'll do my best."

"You're not really going to let him leave?" Jane worries.

She continues to look at him, "If Jay feels he's up for the challenge, then I am obligated to offer it to him."

"I'm always up for a challenge," he agrees.

Fairy Godmother sighs, "In that case, I will speak with Belle."

* * *

"I don't feel right about this," Adam discloses. "He's only been gone a week, and we're supposed to think he's better now?"

Belle gives him a look, "Personality disorders can't be cured. You know that."

She strides towards the door, and he furiously whispers from behind her, "Then what's the point in this?" Belle faces him, and he comments, "We're letting him back into our home."

She frowns, "Fairy Godmother said so long as we put ourselves in his shoes and appeal to his rational mindset, then there shouldn't be any issues."

"And you believe that?"

There's another knock on the door, and Belle sighs before reaching for the handle, "Jay says he'll behave so long as Ben does."

Adam grumbles, "Our son's always causing trouble."

Belle forces a smile as she opens the door, "Fairy Godmother." before she notices the Arabian boy. "Jay. How are you feeling?"

"Feeling?" he slowly inquires.

"Are you hungry?" she puts forth. "Dinner should be ready."

"Oh," he smiles. "Yeah. I could go for something."

"Carlos and Evie should already be up there." Belle tilts her head, "Do me a favor and find her, if she isn't. Alright?"

"Yeah," he agrees, before he slides past Adam.

He watches him jot up the stairs, "We're really letting him wander around?"

"Ben's down here in his office," Belle reminds him. "What's the harm?"

Fairy Godmother concerns, "I do hope he's as ready as he thinks he is. He was just so persistent to be here for Mal, you know."

"Of course," she understands. "We'll do our best to make him comfortable." She looks at her husband, "Won't we Adam?"

"I'll definitely be watching out for any straying behavior," he agrees.

* * *

Jay notices Carlos at the table, "Hey."

Carlos stares, as Jay sits down across from him, "Aren't you supposed to be, you know, getting help or something?"

"Feels weird, doesn't it," Jay taunts, "knowing that you felt so hard for a sociopath?"

Carlos narrows his eyes, "Fuck you."

Jay sighs, "So, I'm supposed to find Evie if she doesn't show up."

"Try Ben," he irritably responds.

"Yeah," Jay seethes. "I'm staying away from that."

"No," Carlos counters. "I mean, try looking for Evie where Ben is." Jay gives him a look, and Carlos shakes his head. "She's been spending a lot of time with him."

"What?" Jay spats.

"Well, when I say a lot," Carlos backtracks, "I mean a lot, as in Ben likes spending a lot of time alone but he makes exceptions for Evie."

His jaw drops, "What do they even talk about?"

"Food," Carlos evenly answers. "And Mal. Food and Mal."

He stares Carlos down, "Do they ever talk about Mal as food?"

"You know," Carlos uncomfortably scratches the back of his neck. "I'm not really a part of their conversations, so…"

Jay rolls his eyes, before Belle and Adam reach the dining room, and Belle asks, "Where's Evie?"

"Carlos thinks she's with Ben," Jay angrily answers.

"Right," Belle frowns. "Adam, get her. Please."

He eyes Jay and grumbles, "Alright." before he heads back down the stairs.

Belle sits next to Jay, before she gathers some steamed vegetables, potatoes, and roast beef, "You know, if there's something bothering you, I'd like you to tell me."

"Ben encourages Evie's eating," Jay informs. "She shouldn't be left alone with him."

Belle takes a moment, "Ben tries to get Evie to eat, but I do agree that the way he goes about it may do more harm in the long run."

"What do you plan on doing about it?"

She thinks, "What would you like me to do about it?"

"Keep them apart," Jay asserts. "Keep him away from everyone."

Belle sighs, "I've already told Carlos and Ben that they can't spend time alone, but Ben hasn't done anything to Evie."

"I don't care if he never attacked her," Jay protests. "All he has to do is talk to her, and suddenly she will stop drinking juice."

"Jay," Evie softly speaks, when she enters the room. Adam passes her, sitting next to his wife, before Evie paces to her seat across from Belle, "What are you doing here?"

"That's what I was asking," Carlos comments.

"Evie," Belle interrupts. "Has Ben ever told you not to drink juice?"

"Just that sugar water athletes drink," Evie says in disgust, before she gives Jay a look. "Don't tell me you're still upset about that?"

"You already don't eat," he mentions. "You don't need to stop drinking stuff too."

"He's worried Ben might be enabling your eating disorder," Belle explains.

"What? No," Evie exasperates, before she faces Jay. "Ben makes me feel like, like I'm not alone. And he knows what just to say to make things okay."

"He tells you normal things aren't safe to eat," Jay debates.

"For me," she stresses. "But he also suggests things that are easier for me to have."

"Like lemon water with honey," Jay finishes. "Yeah. I heard about that."

"Enough," Belle shouts, before everyone turns to her and she breathes, "Evie."

"No," she fears.

Belle hesitates, "If you want to continue spending time with Ben, I'm going to have to insist that you have something for every meal."

"But no one's even awake for breakfast," she nervously protests, "and people make their own lunch around here."

"Which is why I'll be eating lunch with you," Belle solves, "and if you can't be awake for breakfast, I want you to have a late-night snack of which you can have in the library while I read before bed."

"Okay," Evie's voice raises. "And what counts as a snack?"

"Cubes of cheese," she suggests. "Or some strawberries." She smiles, "Something that will fill one of those tiny plates we have."

Carlos sees her tear up and faces Belle, "I'm not saying Ben's the best influence on her, but does she really need three meals?"

"I don't like strong-arming anyone," Belle explains, "but it's important Jay feels that this is a safe place for everyone."

"I lived on one and a half meals for most of my life," Carlos sadly counters. "Can't she just do that? There's no way she's going to be able to stomach three meals after what she's been getting by on."

"Jay?" Belle inquires.

"No tricks," he sternly eyes her. "I want you to actually eat it."

"Evie?" she asks.

"Yeah," she unsurely smiles. "That's so much better."

"Okay, then," Belle agrees. "You can have dinner with us."

"And then snack with me," Carlos bumps her arm, and Evie laughs.

"I said no tricks," Jay emphasizes.

"She'll have her snack with me," Belle reassures, before she frowns at Evie and Carlos. "If you want to join her, that's up to you."

Carlos turns to Evie, promising, "I'll be there."

* * *

**Posted**: 09/18/2019

\- **Guest** I feel like some of the files are self-explanatory from the reader's point of view. Some of the files and characters may be mentioned again, but I can't promise it will be in this fic. I'm thinking (spoiler) that in an upcoming fic Chad's drug use will be revealed to Fairy Godmother and she'll merely say she's suspected it. Point is, the characters who are listed as high risk will be mentioned again, and they may get a personal talk with Fairy Godmother... I was thinking Jane might have a file, but it would obviously be hidden extra carefully if she did.

\- **Megan** I don't know about specific examples, but if you're talking about Hans from Frozen, then there's a theory that he reflects the emotions of everyone around him. So, maybe a name related to that would suite well? Otherwise, Hans's name is of Germanic and Danish origin, so something from that area could be suiting as well.

-**Alley1762** Yeah. The characters aren't what you would particularly expect from their Disney counterparts, but hopefully I've been able to keep them half-decently consistent within the fanfiction.

\- So, I got some really weird private messages, and I don't know if it was robots, police, or an actual person who's been reading my stuff, but I'm not accepting any hookups people offer from this website. These people didn't even say their gender, sexuality, state of residence, or what they're into, so even if I was the kind of person to accept these kind of messages, they're out of luck. PS: I'm pretty confident that through all the personal stuff I've posted, I never disclosed my own gender identity or sexual orientation. So, I shouldn't even be getting messages like this in the first place. Seriously, though. I got two of these messages in one week. I don't know how or why, but it's messed up.


	52. Abstinence

**Abstinence **

**(Friday Afternoon, July 20****th****)**

"How long's a council meeting, anyway?" Carlos questions.

Aziz leans his folded arms on the balcony's white stone, "Long enough for them to think it's a good idea to drag their kids along."

"I saw your father go to the meeting," Carlos comments. "Is that how your parents juggle everything? Your dad collaborates with the other kingdoms, while your mother looks after hers?"

He takes a minute, "Sometimes." as he stares out at the pool and rose garden.

"Az," Carlos concerns, moving closer to the ledge, and he sees his frown. "Az. Is something wrong?" He keeps quiet. "Aziz?"

"My mom's in the hospital," he whimpers.

"What?" Carlos disbelieves. "What for?"

"She has anorexia." He wipes the tears from his face, "After Evie had that vision, my dad found out Jafar used to hurt her really bad…" He gulps, "She stopped eating again. Her therapist thinks it has something to do with not wanting to be noticed. I don't know."

Carlos quiets, "How bad is it?"

"The last time I saw her, it was like she was in a trance." He sniffles, "Like she's still reliving everything, and she's lost so much weight." He meets his blue eyes, "What if she doesn't get better this time? I mean, someone can only be at a low weight so often until—"

"Aziz," Carlos interrupts, taking his hand. "Your mom's going to be okay. If she's getting help and has the support, she will make it."

He manages a smile, "You know, you're the only person I've told about this." before he frowns their hands and takes his away.

"Az?" Carlos notices.

He takes a moment, "Guys aren't really supposed to hold hands with girls." As he tries to pull himself together.

"I'm not a girl," Carlos points out.

"Well, no," Aziz accepts. "But with your sexuality, maybe we shouldn't either."

Carlos nods, before he smiles, pulls his sleeve over his hand, and offers it to him, "What about now?"

Aziz eyes the sleeve, "I don't know. It kind of feels like cheating."

His jaw drops, "On who?"

Aziz widens his eyes, "God."

He offers him an annoyed look, "Just take my hand." before he sighs. "Please."

Aziz half laughs, "Okay." before he takes the black sleeve, and they rest their arms on the stone railing. He catches him tug at his pants, "What about you?"

Carlos frowns, "What do you mean?"

"Are you hurting yourself?"

"What?" he huffs. "Me?" He can't help but grin, "Never." Aziz stares at him, and Carlos confesses, "Well, I mean… I might have overdone it a little with the lighter."

"In your waistband, right?" Aziz accuses.

Carlos gapes, "How did you—"

"You look like you have pantry scorpions in your pants." He narrows his eyes, "What are you doing lighting yourself on fire, anyway?"

"Okay. I do not light myself on fire," he denies. "You, you know, just wait for the metal to heat up, and then you… well. You know."

"Stop saying I know," Aziz gives a look. "I don't hurt myself, and couldn't you find a better spot to do it than where elastic and belts are going to press against?"

Carlos takes his hand away, "It's just a sensitive area. Okay?"

He takes a moment, "Does this have to do with you liking things rougher with people?"

"The problem is," Carlos bypasses, "is that if the lighter's not hot enough, then I can only feel it for like two seconds. But if the lighter's actually hot enough, then my skin gets puffy and peels and stuff."

He shakes his head, "Why do you do it?"

Carlos frowns, "The stinging is just nice… It's warm and, um, tingly."

"There has to be an easier way," Aziz suggests.

"Like what?"

He thinks, "What about a dog collar?"

Carlos furrows his brows at him, "Is that supposed to be some kind of joke?"

"A dog shock collar," Aziz clarifies. "That would sting, wouldn't it?"

"I don't know," Carlos faces forward. "I'd have to look into it."

"Hey," Audrey shouts, and Carlos rolls his eyes before slowly turning. "Uh. I'm pretty sure we're not supposed to be up here."

"Uh. Yeah," Carlos counters. "The point was to be alone."

Aziz laughs, and Audrey points between them, "I'm not interrupting?"

"Kind of," Carlos asserts.

Chad gives a look, "What could we be interrupting?"

"Sex," he immediately responds.

"Talking about sex," Aziz sternly eyes Carlos, before frowns at Audrey. "We were just talking about it."

"Well, so long as that's all you were doing," Audrey takes a deep breath, stepping forward. "I had a question for you."

"What?" Carlos irritably replies.

"Well, I was just wondering," she slowly asks, "do I have to like walk on eggshells around Mal, now that she's tried to kill herself and all that?"

"Mal wouldn't want anyone to pity her," Carlos stresses. "On the Isle if something bad happens to someone, we just say it sucks. You're there for the person. You let them vent. You can't just say sorry out of some stupid social custom and then act like they never got hurt."

"So, I don't have to walk on eggshells with her," Audrey concludes.

Carlos glowers at her, "No. You don't."

Aziz frowns, "You could stand being a little nicer to her, though."

"What are you talking about?" she spats. "I am nice."

Carlos and Aziz give each other a look, before Chad comments, "Hey. So, what's up with Jay? Isn't he normally with you?"

"We're not really getting along," Carlos unsurely responds.

"No. Really." He prompts, "Where is he?"

He sighs, "Belle's baby sitting him."

"Baby sitting?" Chad grins.

"Yeah." Carlos frowns, "He sort of tried to kill Ben."

"Wait," Aziz buds in. "Jay kills people?"

"Well, no," he defends. "Mal stops him."

"But Mal's not here right now," Aziz points out.

"Uh, yeah," Carlos uneasily answers, leaning back onto the balcony. "I know."

"How is he still here?" Audrey disbelieves. "Jay—"

"I know," Jay voices. "I'm irresistible."

Carlos turns back around, and Audrey excuses, "I have to go… check my lip-gloss."

Jay eyes from Audrey to Chad, "You can go too. I have to talk to Carlos."

"Yeah," Chad makes a face, patting Jay's shoulder. Jay eyes it, and Chad shies away, "Whatever you say, man."

Carlos rolls his eyes, as Chad practically runs away; however, then Jay walks up to them. He raises his eyebrows at Aziz, but he insists, "I'm staying."

"Whatever." Jay steps in front of Carlos, backing him against the balcony.

"What do you want?" he spouts.

Jay frowns, "You're upset."

"You're a fucking sociopath," Carlos stresses. "You tried killing Ben."

"He hurt you," Jay asserts. "He hurt Mal. So, what? Just because I'm willing to kill to protect the people I care about, that means I can't ask how you're doing?"

"You're faking it," Carlos accuses. "You never cared about me."

"I care," Jay frowns.

"Fuck you," Carlos counters.

"You know, I was thinking about that," he cracks a smile. "Now that I'm back, maybe you'd like to spend some time with me?"

Carlos is caught off-guard, "What?"

"You've been trying to get with me all summer," he reminds him.

"You have a girlfriend," Carlos hurries, before he lets out a breath. "She's not putting out, is she?"

"What she doesn't know won't hurt her."

"Jay," Carlos sighs.

"Come on." He places his hands onto Carlos's arms, "I'll do whatever you want." before he slides one hand down and tightens his grip. "I know you've been itching for a little action."

"You never liked to before," he concerns.

"You know, the way I feel is obviously different than how other people feel." Jay contemplates, partly smiling, "So, if you say you like something, I shouldn't say you don't." Carlos eyes down. "I'll listen to you." Jay tightens his grip further, and Carlos shakily breathes, "If you want something, I'll do it."

"Jay," Carlos tears up. "I don't know."

"It would be fun," he smiles.

"Jay," Carlos whispers.

"Here." Jay moves his other hand to lift Carlos's chin, "I'll show you."

When Jay leans in Aziz yells, "Stop it." and Jay frowns at him. "He's trying to say no. Let go of him."

Jay eyes over Carlos, before he takes his hands off him, "When you want me, you know where to find me."

After he leaves, Aziz observes his friend, "Carlos?" He doesn't speak. "Are you okay?" Carlos shakes his head, and Aziz touches where Jay's grip had been, "Did he hurt you?"

"He was just trying to get me in the mood," Carlos dismisses, before he places his hand over the sore spot.

"You're not doing anything with him," Aziz commands.

Carlos gulps, "Az. I still love him."

"He doesn't want a relationship," Aziz asserts. "He just wants sex." There's a short silence, before Aziz inserts, "With the kind of stuff you like, a psychopath is the last person you need to be having sex with."

"He's not a psychopath," Carlos defends. "He's a sociopath. That's different. He learned how to be this way to survive."

"He can't recognize when he's hurting you."

"I have a pretty pessimistic personality," Carlos counters.

"You're not having sex with him," Aziz shouts. Carlos looks down, and he takes a deep breath, placing his hands onto Carlos's shoulders. "I just don't want to see you get hurt." Carlos faces him, and he examines his face. "Promise me you won't do it with him."

Carlos slowly shakes his head, "Az. I can't promise that."

"You don't need to have sex," he stresses.

"What am I supposed to do?" Carlos counters. "Be abstinent?"

He removes his hands from him, "You masturbate, don't you? With that lighter? Why can't that just be enough?"

Carlos's frown deepens, "It's better with another person." and then he watches his eyes shine. "Az."

"Do what you want," Aziz shakily answers. "But I'll be here. When you realize I was right," he deeply breathes, "I'll be here for you." He holds his breath and shakes his head, "Just not now."

Carlos watches him walk off, "Az." but he ignores him. "Aziz. Come on."


	53. As Painful As Possible

**As Painful As Possible **

**(Friday Night-Saturday Morning, July 20****th**** – ****21****st****)**

Carlos takes a deep breath, before he raises his hand to the door; however, he falters. What if Aziz is right? Jay's never been good at understanding people's feelings, but he can tell when someone's in pain. He's been able to tell when Mal's in pain. It's just harder for him to understand his pain. He probably thinks it's a good thing now, but it's a fine line between pleasurable pain and painful pain. He can't speak over him. This is probably a bad idea.

"Carlos?"

Carlos turns, and his eyes widen, "Jay?" He eyes from the bedroom to him, "What are you doing?"

He shrugs, "Evie was showing me the kitchen."

Carlos notices Evie next to him, "I—I was just…"

Jay smiles, "Looking for me?"

"Um."

He walks past him, opens the door, and nods him in, "Come on." Carlos looks from him to Evie, and she widens her eyes, slightly shaking her head. "Coming?"

"Uh." Carlos turns back to Jay, "Yeah." He enters the room, Jay shuts the door, and he watches him slowly tower over him. Jay takes his shirt off. "So, um." He eyes over his muscular torso, "It's been a while."

Jay nods over to the bed, "Go." and he follows him over to the large bed.

Carlos turns around, "Jay."

"Take your shirt off."

Carlos complies, before he meets his dark brown eyes, "Is this going to hurt?"

It takes a moment for Jay to smile, "You bet it will." before he eyes over him. "Strip."

"What?" he mutters.

"I said, strip, you pansy."

"Right." Carlos unbuttons his bottoms and takes off his boxers. Jay eyes down, before he places a thumb to one of the burns and presses hard. Carlos seethes, shutting his eyes, and Jay turns him around.

He whispers into his ear, "Miss me?"

Carlos tears up, "Yes."

"Bend over."

Carlos moves onto the bed, and he hears Jay unzip his jeans. A moment later, he feels the penetration. There are no fingers, no spit, nor lube; he holds his breath and shuts his eyes hard, but the forced push causes him to gasp. His eyes water, and then his bottom's slapped. There's another hit and then another, the stings warming the area. As it grows more tender, the same spot is slapped even harder. He can't speak. If he speaks, he will cry. If he cries, Jay will never have him like this again. The slapping stops, and the scraping continues. Jay presses his body against his, Carlos grunts, and Jay whispers, "Whore."

"Kiss me," Carlos begs, and when he turns his head, Jay's lips meet with his.

* * *

It should have been perfect. It should be—even now, Jay's arm wrapped over him so protectant, like he's so afraid to lose him. Carlos wipes the tears from his eyes, slowly removing Jay's arm from him, before he stands from the bed. His butt hurts as he walks, and his trip to the bathroom revealed spots of blood in the tissue. He knew it had hurt more than it should, but how's he supposed to say that to Jay?

When he exits the bathroom, he moves his way to the door; however, Jay notices him, "What are you doing?"

"Kitchen," Carlos hurries, before he hesitates, "Want something?"

"Hell, no," Jay murmurs, before he lays his head back onto the pillow. "It's too early for that shit."

Carlos opens the door, and when he enters the hallway, he checks his watch. It is early. Anyone from the Isle would be going to sleep right now, not waking up. He shakes his head, maneuvers his way to the kitchen, and throws a frozen pizza into the oven. He leans onto the counter, as the pizza slowly makes its way to his nostrils. He checks it, but it's still not ready. He has to wait. It won't be good if he doesn't, like with Jay. It would have been better if Jay had waited. If he'd asked how he was at any point, if he'd noticed the tears when he'd kissed him, it'd all have been better. He shakes his head. He can hear him now, about how it's his fault. He said he liked pain. He never said no. It's his fault this has happened.

"Is that pepperoni?" Carlos turns around, and Aziz frowns at the tears on his face, "Carlos." He steps forward, and Carlos eyes down.

"It was like he was trying to make it hurt has much as possible."

"You didn't like it," he quietly comments.

"Even the parts I would have," he nervously says, "I couldn't focus on it."

Aziz takes a seat at the island counters, "Why don't you sit down?"

Carlos glances at a chair, before he meets his dark brown eyes, "I'm afraid to."

Aziz looks down, sighing, "Do you need a ride to the store to get ointment or something?"

Carlos's frown deepens, "I don't have any money."

"What are you talking about?" Aziz doubts. "You always have money."

"Maybe back when I was Chad's personal prostitute," Carlos mumbles, "but now he's all sin-free, Evie's business is pretty much closed for the summer, and Ben pays me in chocolate." He slightly shakes his head, "Az. I'm broke."

"I could pay for it," he offers.

"No," Carlos shakes his head. "You can't."

"I get a pretty good allowance," Aziz informs. "I would be sinning if I didn't help you."

"Okay," Carlos uneasily accepts, before takes the pizza out and cuts it. Aziz walks over to put a couple pieces onto his plate, but Carlos stops. "He tried insulting me."

"What?" he faces him.

"Jay," he explains. "I think he did it, because Chad used to. But when Chad did it, it was better. He would pause, make some expression, and then act like he came up with the most brilliant thing ever. I could tell he didn't mean it."

"With Jay you can't."

"His expression stays the same," Carlos ponders. "It's not play. It's… It feels real, like he actually hates me and thinks I'm a whore. Which, I've only sold myself to like three guys already, so why wouldn't I be?"

"Three?" Aziz asks.

"Ben." His eyebrows raise, and Carlos explains, "It's less sex and more… blood."

"You think, maybe, that's why Jay tried killing Ben?" he sarcastically inquires.

"It's over. Okay?" Carlos takes some pizza for himself, "All part of his 'recovery'. I'm not even allowed to talk to Ben alone now."

"Carlos," Aziz returns to subject, "you're not a whore."

He tiredly stares at him, "Thank you."

"Found you," a chipper voice enters the room.

Aziz turns to the archway, "Dad."

"What are you boys eating?"

He glances at his plate, "Pizza."

"Great," he smiles. "Hand me a piece."

"It's pepperoni," Carlos discloses, and when Aziz nudges his shoulder, he laughs.

"Is there any left?"

Aziz cautiously comments, "You still want some?"

"You don't see your mother or sister here, do you?" Aziz doesn't speak, and he continues, "What do you think I ate on the streets? A homemade dinner? Come on." Aziz places two pieces on another plate and serves it to his dad. "I couldn't tell the difference between pork and chicken if I butchered it myself." He points a finger at him, "Not a word to your sister."

Aziz smiles, "No. Of course, not." before he turns back to Carlos, his smile slipping. He quickly grabs his plate and sits near his dad. "Speaking of sinning…"

"Yes?" his father warns.

He frowns, "This is my friend." and Carlos takes his plate over to the island counters as well. "He needs a ride to the drug store."

His dad frowns, "For what?"

Aziz hesitates, "He hooked up with his ex."

"So," his dad slowly assumes, "you need to pick up some STI medication?"

"Uh, no," Carlos uncomfortably comments, staring down at his pizza. "I just, um." He takes a breath and faces him, "I got hurt."

"Hurt?" he concerns.

"I like things rougher," he admits. "I had a hard telling hi—them—to stop."

There's a long silence, before Aziz asks, "Can we help him?"

His dad takes a moment, "We're telling Belle about this."

"What?" Carlos disbelieves.

"Dad. We can't."

"She's his legal guardian, isn't she?" he counters.

"Sultan," Carlos starts.

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, "but you're too young to be having sex, and if you snuck out to see someone while under her care, she needs to know."

Carlos and Aziz offer each other a look, before Aziz reminds his dad, "Ben's family keeps a late schedule."

He nods, "We'll go to the drugstore now, but I'm still going to speak with Belle."

"Do you have to?" Carlos worries.

"Look," he sympathizes, "I know this is embarrassing, but you got yourself hurt. Now, whoever hurt you or however it is you got hurt, we need to make sure it won't happen again."

"It won't," Carlos promises.

"And this way it won't."

Carlos starts to cry, "I can't believe this."

"What do you need from the drugstore?" he softly asks.

When Carlos fails to speak, Aziz answers, "Ointment. The numbing kind."

"What does he need ointment for?"

"Because. I'm gay," Carlos confesses, "and the guy I'm in love with is a fucking sociopath. He thought that if I liked getting hurt, then he'd make it as painful as possible." Carlos gulps, his voice changing to a whisper, "And I couldn't tell him to stop, because I thought if I did, then he'd never want to do anything with me again."

Aziz's dad deeply frowns, "Carlos." before he seriously eyes him. "Do you currently live with your ex?"

Carlos starts to sob, and when the sultan faces his son, he quietly comments, "It's Jay."

* * *

Carlos and Aziz glance at each other, as they stand outside the library doors. "I'm sure Jay didn't mean to hurt him," Belle solemnly excuses.

"They can't stay in the same house," Aladdin addresses, "or this will happen again."

"Jay's not going back to the Isle," she protests. "Mal's the only real family he has. He's staying here with her."

"I'd like to take Carlos."

Carlos grins at Aziz, but his clear concern causes his expression to falter. "Pardon me?"

"Fifteen is too young to be homosexual," he opinionates.

"Okay," Belle's voice strengthens. "Now I know I'm not letting you take him."

"He's never even dated a girl before," he informs. "A lot of these problems could be avoided if he were to get a girlfriend."

"That's your plan?" she refuses. "To have him stay with you, so you can shame him into getting a girlfriend?"

"What would you do if it were Ben?" he challenges.

Belle laughs, "Well, we've always told him, whatever he does, not to get caught."

"Nice parenting."

"It allows him to be honest with us," she explains. "All of these kids have been very honest with us, and with their background that's saying something."

"Look," Aladdin tries to reason. "It's just for the summer. He needs some time away from Jay, so he can examine his feelings and find his true path in life." Belle doesn't speak. "Even you have to admit that someone living with their ex can be self-damaging."

She sighs, "I see your point."

"So, you will let him come with me?"

"If he wants to," she agrees. "But under one condition."

"Name it."

"Carlos is nonreligious," she informs. "He's expressed that he'd like to study religion for analytical and societal purposes, but I don't want you trying to indoctrinate him."

Aladdin takes a moment, "I can promise I won't force any scripture onto Carlos, but Jasmine clings to it for her own wellbeing."

"Make sure he doesn't feel pressured into anything," Belle insists.

Carlos cracks the door open and watches the sultan nod, "I promise."


	54. Rexi

**Rexi **

**(Saturday Afternoon, July 21****st****)**

"Okay," Ben pauses the videogame. "This rationing isn't working."

"I think we need to kill off some people," Chad decides.

"Yeah," he sighs, before he unpauses the game to replace the houses with a farm. He looks back at him and uncomfortably mentions, "Um. Chad." Ben places a finger below his nose, and when Chad mirrors the motion, he sees the blood on his fingertips. Ben eyes away, quickly stands to grab the Kleenex box and waste bin, before he gives them to Chad and sits back down.

Chad places some tissue beneath his nose, "Thanks."

Ben looks over him, awkwardly smiling, "Still snorting Pixi Sticks?"

"Shut up," he irritably answers, and Ben frowns as his eyes meet his mother and Chad's father. "This doesn't turn you on, does it?" he shifts in curiosity.

Ben looks back at him, "It would be kind of weird if it did."

"Getting turned on by blood is pretty weird in the first place," Chad points out.

Ben takes a moment, "No." before he turns back to the screen. "It's fine, Chad."

"You know, I was thinking," Chad begins. "If blood turns you on, you could just go down on your girlfriend when she's having that time of the month."

"Are you kidding?" Ben gives a disgusted look. "That stuff's like rotten meat."

Chad laughs, "Really?"

"That's what it smells like," he affirms.

"How would you know?"

"I mean," Ben fumbles, "if I'm sitting right next to someone, I can kind of tell."

"That must suck," Chad grins. "Dealing with that seven days a month." He faces him, "Do you like make excuses or something not to be around Mal when she gets it?"

"Actually," Ben contemplates, "I'm pretty sure Mal only gets hers once every few months." He frowns, "Not that it matters now that we're not even together."

"Hey," he reminds him, "at least she can't assault you anymore."

Ben notices their parents' attention focus on them, and he excuses, "It's not her fault. She thought she was losing me."

"So?" Chad's brows furrow.

"So," Ben irritably answers, "she has Borderline Personality Disorder. If she thinks she's losing someone she cares about, she'll do desperate things. It's not like she even wanted to have sex with me. She just thought she had to do it to keep me."

"And that doesn't bother you?" he doubts.

"Of course, it does," Ben sighs. "You know, I tried different types of underwear too, but it didn't matter if I was wearing boxer briefs or those loose, cotton ones… She still found it."

"Found what?" Ben gapes at him, shakes his head, and Chad cautiously concerns, "Did she actually…" He eyes over him, "Did she touch you?"

Ben frowns, "Not like that." before he takes a deep breath. "Pretty close, though."

Chad frowns, "At least you weren't wearing a hospital gown."

He makes a face, "I guess." and there's a minute of silence.

Chad hears Ben's stomach growl, "You stupid rexi." and Ben pauses the game, turning to see Chad's anger. "You haven't eaten yet, have you?"

"Of course, not." He counters, "I just woke up. What's your excuse?"

"I ate," Chad emphasizes. "I don't need an excuse."

Ben strides over to his desk, taking out a protein bar, before he goes back to the bed, biting into it, "There. Is that rexi enough for you?"

"Whatever," he dismisses, before Ben notices King Charming check his phone, instruct his mother to keep an eye on them, and exit into the hall.

Ben looks at the protein bar. He hadn't checked the flavor, but whatever it was had been sickly sweet. It was too disgustingly rich to have for a first meal." Ben sets it behind him, and he inhales the other scent. It's tart, and he feels his stomach clench. His gaze slowly moves to Chad's neck. It's so close. He bites his lip. He could have him now.

Chad glances at him, before his jaw drops, "What the hell are you doing?"

"What?" Ben defends, "Nothing."

"You're thinking about it," he accuses.

"Why would I be doing that?" Ben bypasses.

Chad shakes his head, tossing the controller to the other end of the bed, "I don't believe this." He faces him, "You promised me you would stop."

"I didn't do anything," Ben concerns.

He takes a moment, "I think we need a break."

"What?" he laughs in disbelief.

"I think we need some time apart," he reiterates.

"You're taking a break from me?" Ben points to himself, eyes widened.

"Well, clearly, this just friends thing isn't working for you," he decides.

"You're the one with the crush," Ben's emphasizes.

"I'm not the one acting on it," he calmly counters.

"Chad," he stresses. "I don't have a crush on you."

"No," Chad frowns. "You just want me for my blood. That's way worse."

When he stands, Ben stands as well, "Chad. Please." He feels his heart pound, and when Chad twists around, the hurt in his expression causes a sinking feeling.

"No," he asserts. "I've had enough. Okay? I can't keep doing this with you."

King Charming renters the room, a frown on his face, "What's going on here?"

Chad turns towards him, "I want to go home." before heading for the door.

Ben hurries after him, shouting, "Chad." He places a hand on his shoulder, forcing him around. "I didn't do anything. You can't just leave."

"You're going to stop me?" his eyebrows raise.

"We're not taking a break," Ben yells.

"You can't make me not."

"You're mine." Ben insists, "You're not going anywhere." and Belle places a hand over her mouth.

Chad makes a face, "I don't belong to anyone." before he paces to the door.

"Wait." Ben goes after him, "I didn't mean it like that." but Charming stops him and then Chad's gone.

He tries to press forward, but Charming steps in his way, "Ben."

"I didn't do anything," Ben persists. "He can't just leave."

"If you didn't do anything, then why's he so upset?"

"I—I don't know," Ben exasperates. "He just caught me thinking something."

"He caught you thinking something?" Charming repeats.

"It's not fair," he frustrates. "I never judged Chad for his thoughts." Charming remains quiet, and Ben sighs, "What? What is it?"

"I'm very disappointed in you," he confesses. "After the talk we had, I thought we'd come to an understanding."

"What are you talking about?" he huffs. "I didn't do anything."

"You called him yours," he sadly reminds him.

Ben tears up, "I didn't mean it like that."

"It sounded like it," he disagrees.

"King Charming," Ben begins, shutting his eyes.

"He's too young for you, and, honestly… I'm tired of him entertaining this relationship you have with him."

Ben's eyes widen, "You think he's been entertaining me?"

"You're clearly taken with him," he opinionates, "but Chad's not like that."

He tilts his head, "How do you know?"

"Because," his voice raises, "my son wouldn't do that." Ben keeps silent, eyes shifting. "Look. I think Chad's right. You need a break from him, until you can treat him as a friend."

"Charming," Ben's voice crackles. "Please."

"I've fought for you before," he mentions. "I have to fight for Chad, now." Tears leave Ben's eyes, and Charming turns to Belle, "May I speak with you for a moment?"

"Of course," she accepts, and they step out into the hall.

His frown deepens, "I told you to keep an eye on them."

"You know Ben didn't physically do anything," she defends.

He takes a moment, "How is Ben doing?"

"How do you mean?"

"Is he eating?" he questions.

She frowns, "Of course, he is."

"Properly?" he persists, and Belle makes a hesitant noise. "I would hate to separate him from his best friend if a nutritional solution could diminish his perverse thoughts."

"He gets busy." She inquires, "But if it's blood you're talking about?" and he patiently listens. "Then it's not like Adam needs it. Ben shouldn't either."

"Ben is a teenager," Charming reminds her. "He's growing. His appetite will be worse."

"And he does partake," she informs. "I just don't believe any more would be necessary." He fails to speak, and she raises her eyebrows, "You think I'm wrong."

"Chad seems to think Ben doesn't eat," he suggests.

"Chad doesn't even know of Ben's nature."

"But if blood's not the issue, then regular eating would be," Charming continues. "And what if he's told Chad things he hasn't told you, things that make Chad think he doesn't eat?"

She frowns, "Somehow, I doubt that."

"But what if it's true?" he persists. "What if Ben has an eating disorder and that's why he's been so out of control?"

Belle half laughs, "You're assuming a lot."

He nods, "Maybe." before he recounts his own conversations with Ben. "But I can tell you he's been stressed about food. Nothing satisfies him. Nothing tastes good. That has to mean something, doesn't it?"

"Ben has things he likes," she dismisses.

Charming thinks, "Or maybe he just has things he doesn't hate." Belle doesn't comment, and he concerns, "I would really feel better knowing that Ben was taken care of."

"He is," Belle sternly remarks. "We take care of him. Now, it may not be the way you would, and some people may disagree with how we handle things; however, Ben is my son, and I know what is in his best interest."

"I'm sorry," Charming apologizes. "I didn't mean to imply you were a bad parent." He hesitates, "If any of my coworkers were in distress, I'd want to help them."

"Then try Aladdin," she suggests. "I hear Jasmine's been hospitalized again."

"Of course," he accepts. "I should check on him again."

He moves to leave, but she steps forward, "Hold on." He faces her, and she unsurely smiles, "You know, maybe I'm just biased. So, tell me. Does my son look anything like how Jasmine gets when she's unwell?"

Charming meets her brown eyes, "No. He doesn't."

"Then stop saying he must be malnourished."

"Belle," he takes a breath. "Eating disorders are a disease of the mind. Just because Ben doesn't look sick, doesn't mean he doesn't have a problem." He eyes over her. "But I'm sure you already knew that." Her eyes lower, and he shakes his head, "May God be with the both of you."

After he leaves, Belle returns to the room and sees Ben sitting on the edge of the bed. "Oh. Honey," she says, going to sit next to him.

"He's taking a break from me." His eyes are wide open, but tears still escape, "From me. Do you believe that?"

She hugs him, "I'm so sorry." and there it is: the cantaloupe scent, so sweet, so juicy. He sucks on her neck, and she moves him away, "Ben."

"Sorry," his eyes shut. "I'm just suddenly really hungry."

She quiets, "Ben. I haven't been starving you, have I?"

He gapes at her, "What?"

"I know I've put this expectation on you," she starts, "of having cooked meats and being more human than you are."

"Mother," he cringes.

"I'd just hate to think that you've hidden your needs from me, just because I was foolish enough think you didn't need anything more."

"Mother," he frowns. "I'm fine. Really… I'm just sad. I'm probably not even hungry."

"Still," she persists. "Is there anything you'd like for dinner?"

He lifts a shoulder, "A protein shake in my office."

"Ben," she desperately expresses, "I'd like you to eat with us." He looks away. "How about steak? We can make it rare for you."

"No," he frowns.

She places one hand to his shoulder and the other to his face, "Ben. Please. I need to know that we've taken good care of you." His eyes move to her neck, and he feels his teeth tense. They have to bite something. He could have her now, bite into her neck and move her back onto the bed. "Ben?" He quickly frees himself from her and stands, staring her over. "Ben?" she asks again, and he hurries to the door. She reaches for her neck, rubs it, and sighs. A scarf. She should have worn a scarf.

* * *

When Ben enters the East Wing kitchen, he searches the fridge and freezer before pulling out the rocky road ice cream, "Who's is this?"

Evie looks over him, "Carlos's."

"Maybe I shouldn't have it," Ben debates, before he opens it and notices it's half gone. "You know, I can just get him a new one."

She watches him take a spoon and dig it into the medium tub, "You don't have to, actually. Aladdin took him."

Ben sucks the spoon, "The sultan?"

"Something about how he shouldn't be living with his ex." Evie flips her hair, "Anyway. A five-hour train ride, he couldn't take the ice cream."

Ben stares into the ice cream, "Everyone's leaving me." before he takes another bite.

Evie sits down, "What happened?"

"Chad and I are taking a break," Ben answers in annoyance before muttering in French.

"So?"

"So. He likes me," Ben emphasizes. "And now he's taking a break?" He shakes his head, "He can't just do that."

"You know why he's taking a break, don't you?" Evie asks.

"Because, I'm not allowed to think anything," Ben complains.

"Because, you know he likes you," Evie frowns. "He probably feels weird hanging out with you now that you know, and he's probably afraid of how you could act with him now."

"I was willing to do small stuff with him," Ben counters. "He should have been grateful." He scoops up more ice cream, "He probably thinks about having sex with me, but the second I think about his smell, he has to frickin' leave."

"Ben," she sighs.

"I want pizza," Ben decides, before he and the ice cream head for the hallway. He strides down to the door connecting the two wings, moving the spoon of ice cream to his mouth, before he's halted in his steps. In front of him is the black-haired maid, spoon stuck in his mouth, as her grey eyes look over him. He takes a step back and rounds her, darting for his room. The pizza. He sits at his desk, placing the spoon into the ice cream container, before he goes onto the website and fills out his order.

* * *

"Here's your free pizza," the dark brown-haired guy smiles, and Ben smiles in return. "Oh, but you have the delivery fee."

"Right," Ben falters, before he digs the change from his pocket, exchanging it with his order. "So, uh."

"How's your day going?" he offers.

"My friend decided we needed a break," he complains.

"A break?" he inquires.

"I really don't care, though, because I have pizza now," he continues, before his eyes scan him and he sets the pizza down on the entrance table. "So. Pizza. Does that pay well?"

"Enough," he evenly expresses.

"So, you couldn't use an extra twenty dollars?" Ben suggests.

He laughs, "Are you tipping me?"

"Well, no," Ben scratches the back of his head, awkwardly smiling. "I don't have the money right now, but I was thinking you could do something for me."

"Like what?"

"Well," Ben looks off, "something that would involve you to come inside."

He chuckles, "Was your breakup really that bad?"

"It wasn't a breakup," Ben denies. "He just doesn't want to hang out with me anymore."

"Right," he slowly entertains.

"Whatever," Ben grumbles, before he smiles and moves a hand to his shoulder. "Do you have a minute?"

"I'm on the clock," he informs. "I don't have thirty minutes."

"Then later," he solves.

"I'm sorry," he takes a step back, and Ben's hand falls to his side. "But I'm not breaking the law for anyone." He moves one foot back and bows, "Even for you, Your Highness."

"It wouldn't be sexual," Ben informs. "I'd just like the company."

"Just company?" he doubts.

Ben glances at his neck, "Well, maybe just a little more than company."

He grins, "Have a good day, King Ben." before he starts to leave.

"Hey," he calls after him. "What's your name?"

"Tyler," he shouts back, before he reenters the car.

Ben grins, "Tyler." before he shuts the door.

Jay whistles, "You move fast." and Ben turns, frowning in annoyance. "Didn't you and Chad just fight two hours ago?"

"It's not like I'm dating him," he points out.

"Mal thought you were."

"And I told her I wasn't," he asserts.

"So, you weren't going to hook up with Tyler to get back at Chad?" he speculates.

Ben lifts a hand in stress, "Why do you even care?"

"What else am I supposed to do?" he counters. "Sit across from Belle in the library, reading some book?"

"Yeah," Ben gives a look. "I'm pretty sure that is what you're supposed to be doing." He shakes his head, "What did you do? Say you had to use the bathroom and then never went back? You're going to upset her."

"Ooh. What's she going to do?" He laughs, "Lecture me to death?"

Ben looks off, and his expression falls. His father hovers over Jay, "Something funny?"

Jay turns around and frowns, "No, Your Highness."

A small noise emanates from his throat, "And how did you escape the library?"

He shrugs, "I just asked Belle questions about what she was reading, until she told me to go entertain myself elsewhere." Adam eyes over him. "What?"

"Why don't you entertain yourself with me?" he proposes.

"With you?" he concerns.

"Unless you'd like to give the library a second chance," he offers. "And actually read something this time?"

Jay makes a face, "Nah. You see, reading's not really my thing."

He nods in thought, "Honestly, it's not mine either. I couldn't even read when I met Belle. Without her, I wouldn't be the man I am today."

"Literally."

Adam takes a moment, "My point is that we all have to do things we don't like, and we become better for it." Jay rolls his eyes, and he asks, "If reading isn't your thing, then what is?"

He shrugs, "Sports, I guess."

"Do you like sports?"

He shrugs again, "Sometimes."

"Sometimes?" he inquires, and Jay's frown deepens. "What else do you like?"

"Well," he thinks, "I would say people, but sometimes I feel more alone around them."

"What else?" he asks again.

Jay's eyes shift, before he meets his blue ones, "Justice. I like justice."

Adam smiles, "Okay. We can work with that." Ben gapes, as his father places an arm around Jay's shoulders and heads back to the library. He looks off, sees the pizza sitting on the thin table, and goes to snatch it before racing up the white staircase.

* * *

**Posted**: 10/01/2019

**Ally1762** The thing about Mal is that she's useful to Jay, and she does understand him. This is something that I thought I would explain in the next chapter. Hopefully it makes sense.

**DarthMsater12** Welcome to the club. It's always nice to see a new commenter, but let's be real. Dark Master was taken, right? Or are you German? Because, it would be cool if you were... not that no one else can be. I'm just biased. You guys know that.

**Megan** Yeah. I really love the way Aziz and Carlos interact... And yeah. It probably would be a good idea for Carlos to just be upfront with Jay, but that's only going to be a problem if they get back together. So long as Carlos is in hiding, he can't get hurt. (Tune in for the school year. You're going to love it."

\- **Royal Problems: Chad's Secret** **is now out!** **Go read it.** It all starts with his and Ben's 'break'.

\- So, I had this very sad idea for an alternate time line that only Evie can see. The time line I'm writing is the one where they get to stay in Auradon. Obviously, if Jay had killed Ben, they'd been sent back to the Isle by Adam and Ben's cousin would have claimed the throne and outed Ben's side of the family as... whatever term explains a werewolf mating with a lion whose offspring got involved with a human whose son started dating a dragon. Anyway, I'm going to play around with that other time line, but I'm having a hard time deciding whether to only include visions in this series or give it its own series and just make Evie look crazy in this one. Let me know what you think.


	55. Level-Headed

**Level-Headed **

**(Saturday Night, July 21****st****)**

"All I have is a backpack," Carlos comments. "You don't need to help me unpack."

"Even I had more than a backpack worth of items when I was on the street," Aladdin frowns. "If you're missing anything important, I'd like to help."

"I have clothes. I have a toothbrush, toothpaste, and deodorant," he lists. "What else do I really need?"

"Shampoo," Aziz answers.

Carlos silences, and Aladdin nods to the bag, "Come on. Let's see what you have."

Carlos sighs, "Okay." before he unzips the bag.

"Lay it on the bed," he instructs.

Carlos drops the red, black, and white leather-fur jacket, before he opens the bag and pulls out his other clothes. There's four t-shirts, a long-sleeved red shirt with thumb holes, two leather capris, three different colored jeans, and a black and silver vest. Aziz picks up one of the two t-shirts of the weird thin and stretchy material, "What is this? Some kind of spandex?"

"Eh," Carlos thinks. "I don't remember. I got that a long time ago."

"Not very dessert appropriate," Aladdin points out. "We might have to go shopping."

"Shopping?" Carlos asks.

Aladdin looks into the bag, pulling out the necessities previously mentioned, before his eyebrows raise, and he lifts the red lighter up to him, "You smoke?"

Carlos eyes from the lighter to him, "No."

When Carlos fails to explain, Aziz informs, "It's a toy."

"A toy," he repeats. "You mean, like a…" They keep quiet, and Aladdin thinks, "Okay. This is what we're going to do." He faces Carlos, "If you want it, you have to ask for it."

"What?" his jaw drops, and Aziz snickers.

Carlos glances at Aziz before furrowing his eyebrows at Aladdin, "What's next? You going to ask to watch?" He doesn't say anything, and Carlos's eyes widen, "Oh. Hell, no."

He questions, "Do you strangle yourself?"

"No."

"You're not just saying that?" he concerns.

"It turns out I like to breathe," Carlos irritably answers.

"Then supervision shouldn't be necessary," Aladdin supplies, before he holds up the lighter again. "But I'm keeping this."

He lets out a breath, "Why can't I keep it?"

"If you're hurting yourself, I need to know how often it's happening."

"I'm not self-harming," Carlos's voice raises. "I'm just—" He sighs, tearing up, "It feels good. Why does that have to be a bad thing?"

Aladdin calmly answers, "It's not bad. It's just adult. You've had to grow up early—and it's not your fault—but you're not ready to be doing the things you've been doing." His eyes shift, "Not without guidance." The tears fall to Carlos's face, and he quickly wipes them away. Aladdin places a hand onto his shoulder, "You're still injured. You probably won't even feel like having the lighter, but when you do feel like you need it, I will have it for you. Okay?"

Carlos nods, "Okay."

"You must be exhausted," he notices. "I'll cook dinner, and after you can sleep."

Carlos nods again, "Alright."

* * *

Evie watches Jay snack on the cookies with a book in his hands, "You're reading?"

"Yeah," Jay smiles. "Adam hooked me up with this sweet one on Pre-Auradon history. There's all this stuff about like broken promises, war, and the death penalty."

"Of course," Evie sighs, leaning on the counter. "The death penalty."

"And there's so many different stories," he continues. "The royal families told their point of views, and they put every single side in here."

"Is any part of it true?" she speculates.

He furrows his brows, "It's what they thought. It's what made them do the things they did. It doesn't matter if it was true or not."

Evie takes out the witch's glass, "Mirror, mirror, proud and fair, what thinks you this affair?"

The mirror writes, "I think you have an extra syllable."

"I tried," she complains. "Just tell him it's stupid."

"It's not stupid," he writes back.

"But it's all lies," she disproves.

"No, it's not," he counters. "It's all true."

"How can it all be true if it's full of opinions?"

He takes a minute, "You should steal one of his cookies."

Evie rolls her eyes, puts the mirror back into her pocket, and Jay questions, "S'up?"

She grins, shaking her head, "Nothing."

"Eh. Excuse me," a voice comes from the archway.

Jay sees the girl with long, blond hair, "Ruby."

She steps forward, "I heard what happened."

Evie steps aside, "I'll give you some privacy." before Ruby steps further into the kitchen and Evie exits into the hall.

Ruby sits across from Jay, "So, you tried to kill the king?"

He frowns, shutting the book, "I had my reasons."

"He hurt Mal. And Carlos." She reaches for his hand, "Jay. I believe you."

"You do?" he doubts.

"I'm Audrey's best friend," she informs. "He hurt her too. I saw him threaten her."

Jay looks from their hands to her, "I don't get what you're trying to do here."

She glances down before meeting his dark eyes, "I'm trying to get you to stay here in Auradon with me. If you try to kill the king again, that's treason. You will get sent back."

"Don't worry." He offers an annoyed look, "I already told everyone I wouldn't kill Ben, so long as he doesn't mess up."

"You really think he won't?" she doubts. "He's a literal beast. He can growl."

Jay frowns at her, "I think his parents want to keep him alive." before he picks up another cookie. "They'll make him behave. The next time Ben messes up, I'm sure his father will beat him for it."

Ruby faces him, "You think that maybe that kind of thing is why Ben's so messed up?"

He widens his eyes, "You think that maybe I don't care?"

She takes his hand tighter, "Jay. Just tell me you will try your best not to kill Ben. Please. For me?"

"No offense," Jay's eyes widen, "but if anyone is going to keep me here, it's Mal."

Ruby lets go of him and huffs, "Why her? Why can't you stay for me?"

He gives a look, "I knew her for years, Ruby. Mal kept me alive on the Isle. Without her, my father would have killed me a long time ago. I'm sorry, but she's a lot more important to me than some girl I just met."

"If she's so important to you," Ruby shouts, "then why don't you make her your girlfriend?"

"Because, she's my sister," he yells back, and her expression falls. "God. You know, I really prefer my blonds to be smart. I was told you were supposed to be."

"I'm sorry." She shakes her head, "I didn't know."

"We don't look alike," Jay calms. "We're not blood-related, so we don't tell people that we're siblings. But our parents did hook up, and we did grow up together."

She nods, "I understand."

Jay glances down, "Mal's the reason why I've never killed anyone." before he meets her blue eyes. "She keeps me level-headed. I don't know what I would do without her."

"If she's not around, you could come to me," she suggests.

He eyes over her, "How are you going to help me?"

"Well," she thinks, "how does Mal do it?"

"She reasons me out of it."

Ruby smiles, "I think I can do that."

His frown deepens, "Uh, and Ruby. Even the people I care about, I get the feeling that what makes me to care about them might be different than other people."

She takes his hand again, "I know. And I'm okay with it."

"Wait." He hesitates, "You knew?"

"You told me you loved me on our first date," she cringes.

"I thought I was supposed to."

She shakes her head, "No." as her voice quiets. "But pulling out my chair, giving me chocolate, and kissing me goodnight, I can tell you're trying. And that's more than some guys are willing to do."

"Ruby." He reminds himself, "I do like you."

She leans on the counter, "What do you like about me?"

He cracks a smile, "You're still willing to be with me?"

She laughs, "What else?"

"I like smart blonds," he informs.

"So, I'm smart now?" Ruby inquires.

He grins, "If you kiss me, you'll be extra smart."

She leans forward, they kiss, and she whispers, "If you're smart, you'll tell me which girl you've been cheating on me with."

"Which girl?" he questions.

"Tell me now," she says, "and no one gets hurt."

He laughs, "What makes you think I've been with another girl?"

"You haven't mentioned sex in weeks." She insists, "So, who is it?"

"Ruby," he takes her other hand, "you're the only girl I've been with since I got here."

She frowns, "No, I'm not."

He widens his eyes, "You are."

She looks over him, "I'm going to feel really stupid if I'm not."

"I promise you are." Jay moves in to kiss her, "But whenever you're ready for sex, I'm totally down for it."

She playfully pushes him, "I told you. A year. I have to date you for a year, first."


	56. Anyone Else

**Anyone Else **

**(Sunday Afternoon, July 22****nd****)**

Ben looks from the scanner to the wall, muttering, "Four. Five. Twenty-four." before checking the price tag for the matching product name and lining the vitamin bottles in a row.

"King Ben?" someone says in surprise, and Ben turns to the young man.

He smiles, "Can I help you?"

His blue eyes widen, "You work here?"

Ben touches the red cap on his head, "Well, I have the hat and name…" before he falters and moves on. "Do you need something?"

"Um," the tall guy offers a curious expression, stepping forward. "Yes. I'd like to get some essential oils and caffeine pills. I have an exam coming up."

Ben takes a moment, "Oils?"

"Essential oils," he repeats. "I need the lemon one to help me focus."

"Do you mean, like the lemon extrait?" he tries to understand.

"Lemon extract?" the customer's eyes narrow, before his voice raises. "No. I'm not cooking with it. I need the oil to scent my room."

Ben's mouth crack open, unable to respond, before his boss comes out of the back room. "Ben." He faces him, and Noah asks in French, "What's the problem?"

He frowns, "Something about… He said 'oils'?"

Noah turns to the customer and questions in English, "You're looking for essential oils?"

"Yes," the man lets out a deep breath.

Noah nods, "They're over here." and Ben watches as they walk to the side wall with the humidifiers and scented substances. That's what an oil is. Ben shakes his head, swipes the boxcutter across the case, and folds it into the large box filled of cardboard.

When he finds where the next box goes, he hears the customer whisper, "What's going on with him?" and when Ben catches them looking at him, they look away.

"There's just some words he doesn't know in English," Noah explains.

"Oils?" he doubts.

"Look." Noah hesitates, "He was in an accident a few months ago. It's just a side effect."

"I don't believe this," he frustrates. "This is supposed to be our king? He can't even understand English."

"Sir," Noah tries to calm.

"All of those people calling in with their concerns," he voices, "is he even listening to them? Or are their voice messages just getting completely ignored now?"

"There's ways to get around language," he tries to reassure.

The voices continue, but they're drowned out as he takes the bottle of iron tables from the box. Mal used this to suppress her appetite on the Isle. Ben's teeth have been driving him crazy, as the tension begs him to bite something. Food's all he's been able to think about, but he's sick of it. He's sick of thinking of food, of eating it. It feels like it's all he's been doing. If he could just stop thinking about it, if he could stop eating for three or five hours straight, he'd have time for other things. He needs that five hours more than ever now that he has a job. The customer has a point; he does need to put more effort into his kingly duties, and if he just didn't have to deal with food anymore, he'd have all the time in the world.

"Ben?" He looks up and sees his boss above him. "How much did you hear?"

Ben softly answers, "Enough to know I'm a bad ruler."

"You're not a bad ruler," Noah's blue eyes widen, and Ben looks down. He kneels to his level, "Ben. You're a good king. Getting injured shouldn't stop you."

"Even King Charming said I should give up the crown if I can't lead the council meetings." His eyes lower, as he murmurs, "I think he's tired of translating for me." before he half laughs. "And then Chad and I fought again, so I don't know."

"Wait." Noah thinks, "You're not the friend he talked about in his video, are you?"

Ben cringes, as his pitch raises, "Does it matter? All that would do is lower Charming's opinion of me even more." He gulps, "I'm just some stupid kid who can't do anything right, who used his father's health to steal the throne. And it's not like I'm any healthier." He scoffs, "I'm no king. I'm not strong like he was… and I don't think I even want to be."

"Ben," Noah tries to reassure, "You're the strongest person I know. The age you got the throne and what you've done with it and still going to school, the kind of… power that let's you do that and carry on like that, that's real strength."

He faces him, "I've tried to kill myself." and watches his expression slip. "I'm not as strong as my parents would like people to think."

"You tried to kill yourself?" Ben nods, and Noah questions, "When?"

Ben's brows raise, "Which time?" He shakes his head, "Sorry. I should be working."

"It's fine," Noah's voice strengthens. "I want you to be able to talk about this."

"My life is a mess," he whispers. "It's always a mess." He feels his forehead, takes the tic-tac case from his pocket, before he sees it's empty. "And I'm out of fucking medicine again." He tosses the case at the wall, before sighing, "I'll pick it up in a minute."

He watches him shut his eyes, "What's the medicine for?"

Ben shakes his head, "High body temperature. I take just enough not to overdose."

"Do you need to make a call for someone to bring more?" Noah unsurely asks.

"There is no more," Ben murmurs. "If there's any hidden around the castle, I couldn't find any. And I tore apart my room and office, but there wasn't any money."

"Can't your parents help you?"

Ben laughs, "Can't my parents help?" and the tears leave his eyes as he grins. "The fight with my dad over that money, I can't ask him for anything. And if my mother knew… If I took a single dollar, I feel like he would stop giving her the small amount she's been allowed."

"Your parents wouldn't let you die," Noah asserts, but Ben fails to agree. He takes a breath, "Hold on a minute." Ben glances as Noah gets up, before he stares at the wall. He pictures his parents finding his body. His father would stand back in shock, as his mother cries over him. No. They wouldn't want him to die. They just don't mind making him wish he was. Noah kneels beside him again, handing him a small case of Tylenol, "Here."

"Thanks," Ben whispers, before he pokes three pills out of the package and stretches his arm to reach his water bottle. "I guess I could ask Evie if I can borrow some money from her again, but I just asked her last week. I'd feel bad doing it again."

He watches him take the medicine, "You know, pay day is this week. If you really need the cash, I could pay you early."

Ben turns to him, "Really?"

"You just have to promise to continue coming." He watches Ben eye the floor, "For five hours four days a week, that's three hundred dollars." Ben still doesn't speak. "It's not like you have a lot of options."

He stares forward, "I could go to sleep and never wake up." before he looks at him. "You know how easy it would be? If I just didn't take any medicine, I could just feel myself become so weak until I fall asleep."

"Ben," Noah pauses, "I need you here."

"Right," he half laughs.

"No. Seriously," he reaffirms. "How many boxes do you have left to stock?"

He lifts a shoulder, "Five?"

"And you started with fifty," he reminds him. "If you do that well when you're new, you could become really useful if you stay."

Ben continues to frown, "You need me?"

"Of course, I need you," Noah expresses. "And, really, we all do. Never mind the good job you did here today. You're our king, and believe or not, you're really great at it." Ben unsurely bites his lip. "Take the advance. Let me help you."

Ben nods, "Okay. I'll take it. And I'll be here every day this week."

"Every day that you work," he corrects.

Ben half smiles, "Every day I work. Yes."

* * *

When Ben enters the castle, his mother stands from the alcove sitting area, "You told me your shift ends at eight."

He lifts the shopping bag, "I had to get medicine."

She folds her hands in front of herself and nods, "Well, dinner is going to be cold, but we're having dessert if you'd like to heat something."

"Mother."

"I think you'd really like to come upstairs," she unsurely smiles.

"Mother," Ben says again. "I have to get to the office."

She frowns, "Very well." and before she can say another word, Ben strides across the foyer to enter the office. He shuts the door, heads to the desk, and sits before sorting through his new supplies. There's liquid cold medicine, ibuprofen capsules, iron tablets, beef strips, and flavored water. He places the medicine inside his desk, takes half of the meat snack out, and pulls out an iron tablet. If he could get by with this as a meal, then he'd be able to save so much money. He could get fired and still get by, and if he manages to keep the job, he could save up for a car. He wouldn't need Travis nor his parents' permission to go anywhere. He could come and go as he pleases, but mostly leave. If he can avoid them, there will be no more fights. There will be no more sad looks from his mother and no more provoked anger from his father. Ben opens the flavored water, before he starts to snack on the meat strip and takes the tablet.

After a few minutes, there's a knock on the door, and Ben puts the bottle of iron tablets inside his desk, "Come in." The door slowly opens, and he sees the fiercely curly brown hair before the jade eyes meet him.

"Ben."

He stands from his seat, "Mal."

She steps forward, "Your mother says you're not eating."

"I don't eat with them," Ben corrects. "My father and I got into a fight over money. I'm not going to eat anything that was paid with his." Mal's eyes lower in thought, and he questions, "How are you? I mean, are you well?"

Mal frowns, "My last appointment with Ms. God-Solves-Everything is tomorrow, so that will be nice."

"But you're still getting help?" he slowly asks.

"Uh, yeah." She nods, "The doctors are putting some profiles together for me, trying to find someone who doesn't believe in a God that wants them dead."

"They're still going to need them to be a witch," Ben speculates. "If they don't, you could hypnotize them not to help you or um…"

"I get it." Mal moves over to the pull-out couch, "Believe me." She sighs, "I get it."

A sweet, smoky smell starts to scent the air, and Ben wets his lips. His eyes move to her neck, and he recalls the fear on her face, "Um, Mal."

"You're busy." She shakes her head and stands, "Sorry."

"No. Um," he hurries, before she turns back to him and he settles. "Can…" He hesitates, "I want to know what happened. What did I do to you?"

"But you know what happened." Mal reminds him, "You said I smelled good, backed me into a corner, and…"

"I want to remember," he breaks her from her thoughts.

"Ben," she shakes her head.

He moves over to the bed, sits next to her, and reaches for her hand, "Mal." He meets her green eyes, "I need to know. There is so much I don't remember."

"Because, I made you forget," Mal finishes. "There's a lot of things you've done that you don't remember because of me."

"Then make me remember," Ben's eyes widen. "I can't stand not knowing."

"You begged me to make you forget," she informs him.

Ben takes a moment, "Doesn't that make whatever I forgot that more important?"

"Ben," Mal frowns.

"Please," he pleads. "I need to know how I hurt you. I need to remember whatever I did to Doug. I need to remember everything."

Mal slightly nods, before she places a hand to his face, "You ready?"

He meets her eyes, "Yes."

Her eyes glow bright green, and she commands, "You will remember everything you forgot." before she lets go of him. He looks down, and after a minute, Mal tilts her head, "Ben?"

Ben's frown deepens, before he faces her, "You were so sad when I told you I wanted to forget about it."

"I thought it would change you," she acknowledges, "that you wouldn't be there for me." He nods, and she questions, "What else do you remember?"

He unsurely smiles, "I don't really know. It's a little… hard to get through."

"Maybe there needs to be a trigger." Mal partly smiles, "Ben. You already know most of what you forgot. If you can't remember, it's probably not important."

"But I have to know," Ben insists. "I tried to kill myself how many times? I told you I would kill myself if you didn't make me forget? There has to be more of a reason than just…"

"Than just what?" Mal inquires.

He sighs, "Than just hoping I was human." before shaking his head. "There's a lot of carnivores out there. None of them attack people. None of them don't eat, because they think that will somehow make it not real." He looks into her eyes, "If I were anyone else, I'd be in prison right now. I could be dead." His eyes water, and his voice crackles, "But I'm not." He strains a smile. "I'm still here, and I'm still a monster."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 10/31/2019

\- **Megan** Yeah. Sorry for not posting for a month. I don't know what happened, aside from being sick this last week... and a little health problem a couple weeks ago. I'm in a weight loss competition, and apparently I was eating in a way where my body was eating its muscle but I still gained weight, which made me feel really tired and weak. I thought I was eating fine, but I guess I was wrong. They told me I need more carbs in my diet, but a part of my mind is trying to tell me they're lying. I gained muscle back this week, though, so I'm fine. Anyway, I'm glad you found the 'break' touching. As far as Tyler goes, I'm thinking about making him Ben's new low-key obsession. He needs a distraction now that Chad's deserted him, something simple that he won't need to explain himself for, but I don't know how many more times Tyler will make it in this fic before I move onto the one for the school year. There's a lot of things I'm questioning if it will make it into this fic or have to wait for the next one.

\- **alley1762** Yes, Evie's dad was trying to get her to eat... I have a lot to say about Ruby, and I have a plotline that connects her with Aziz; however, I can't say anything at the moment and it won't happen for a while. The majority of her story will happen while she's not discussed in the fanfic. Maybe I'll do a short story for it when the time comes, but like I said, it won't be for a while.


	57. Bones

**Bones **

**(Monday Afternoon, July 23****rd****)**

"Yes, yes," Mal hurries. "Are we done now?"

"For the day," the brunette therapist nods, before she stands from her seat.

"Hold on." Mal stands and laughs in stress, "What do you mean for now?"

"Well, we do have three more sessions," she reminds her. "Your court order doesn't end until the twelfth."

"But Dr. Roberts said I could get a different therapist."

"For your personality disorder and overall wellbeing." Her blue eyes meet her, "It's my job to address your racism against humans and to make sure you're keeping up your heat."

"So, I have three more weeks of this," Mal thinks aloud.

When Belle walks into the entrance area, Janis asks, "May I use the bathroom?" Belle nods, and the therapist walks over to the hall.

Belle smiles at Mal, "How did it go?" Mal looks from the hallway to the black purse Janis had left, before she strides over to open it. "Mal? What are you doing?" She doesn't speak, merely taking out the wallet to examine her id. Her address is listed, and she smirks. "Mal?" She mutters it three times aloud, each one faster than the one prior, before she puts everything back the way it had been.

When the therapist makes her way back, she picks up her purse and smiles, "See you next week, Mal."

She grins, "See you next week, Janis."

The therapist's expression falters, before her gaze meets Belle, "Good day, Your Highness." Mal watches her leave, before she moves towards the stairs.

Belle stops her, "Mal. What were you doing?"

"Planning."

"Planning what?" she inquires.

"I don't know yet," Mal answers, before she moves past her and hurries up the staircase.

* * *

Mal leans on the counter and sighs, "A ham, turkey, and cheddar sub on a flatbread."

"Toasted," Jay inserts.

"Right," Mal nods with a frown. "Toasted."

The grey eyed man smiles, "Anything else?"

"No," Mal answers, before he starts preparing their meal.

Jay glances around the shop, "I can't believe this place is still up-and-running after what happened to the owner."

"Yeah," the man frowns. "I was, uh, a good friend of the owner. His niece was nice enough to let me buy the shop from her."

"I'm not surprised," Mal murmurs. "I was scared as hell to go anywhere afterwards. On the Isle hybrids are worshipped. Here they get killed."

"Anyone who is different," he corrects. "You don't have to be a hybrid to get death threats. You just have to be feared."

"How is his niece?" Mal questions.

He takes a moment, "Kerrin's been really focused on her med school. I haven't seen from her in over a month. No one's really heard from her."

"College happens during the summer?" Jay notices.

"They take fieldtrips to different kingdoms for hands-on training," he informs, "but I didn't think she was allowed to do that yet."

"So, what is she doing?" Mal ponders.

"Your guess is as good as mine." He trades the sub with Mal and Jay's money. "I just wish she could find the time for more than a quick text, just so I know she's okay."

Mal eyes around the shop, but the people don't look away. They whisper, muttering, about her assault accusation against the king, her hospitalization, and how much more dangerous she is now that she's lost her mind. "Maybe we should get out of here," Jay offers.

"Yeah." Mal nods, before she strides to the door. "Besides, there's something I've been dying to get since I got out."

Jay follows her down the street, "The wine store?"

Mal stops in front of it, before she carries on, "No." She crosses the street, before she enters the butcher shop. The guy with buzzed black hair and dark skin frowns, as Mal steps forward and Jay stays back by the door. "Hey." She leans on the counter, "Do you sell bones?"

"Uh," he unsurely answers. "What kind?"

She shrugs with wide eyes, "Small. Big. Marrow in the center. Whatever you have for a reasonable price, really."

"Um." He shouts, "Dad. How many bones are we allowed to sell?"

His father shouts from the back, "You can tell those wolves that if they're not going to cook their food, they can get out of here."

He unsurely smiles, "Sorry. Someone's dog died after they ate a bone."

"But I'm not a dog, am I?" Mal coyly comments. "I'm a dragon. I cook what I eat."

"So, you know how to cook bones?" he tests.

Mal smiles, "Give me one, and I'll show you." He stares at her for a minute, before he complies and takes a thin bone from beneath the counter. She accepts it, "Thank you." before she blows a blue flame over it. He steps back from the heat, and she bites into the charred bone, "I get to thank Lord Hades for showing me this. My mom didn't teach me shit."

"So, um, how many?" he asks.

She glows her eyes, "You should give me all of them."

"All of them?" he slowly repeats.

Mal tilts her head, "Well, I mean, so long as you're not allowed to give them to wolves." before her eyes glow brighter. "You are happy to let me have them for free."

"Of course," he grins, before he takes the brown sack from under the counter and struggles to hand it to her. "Here."

Mal smiles as she takes it, "Nice doing business with you." before she turns to leave and Jay whistles before following her out.

"I'm impressed," he expresses.

"Not yet." Mal commands, "Keep walking."

Inside the store, the guy eyes from the door to the countertop, "Hold on." He moves a few objects, "Where's the…"

"Where's the what?" his father walks up behind him.

He turns around, "I, um, can't find the money."

"Oh." He smiles, "You mean the money you just let walk out of here?"

"What?" his eyes narrow.

His dad bumps his head with a roll of newspaper, "What's wrong with you, boy? You know how much money we could've got?"

"Ow," he rubs his head.

"You really going to let some pretty, white girl thieve from you?"

"No," he tiredly frowns.

"Well, you just did."

He sighs, "Dad. I swear, I don't know what happened."

He lightly chuckles, "It's a good thing school's starting up soon." before he rubs a hand over his head. "Your brain clearly shrunk this summer."

"So, the bones?" he reminds him.

He waves it off, "We can get more when you help me clean some animals this weekend."

"Wait," he puts up a hand. "What?"

"You're learning how to clean an animal this Saturday," he repeats.

"But I had plans," he complains.

"And now you're making new plans," his father instructs. He rubs his face in stress, and his dad steps forward, "Come on. It'll be fun."

He gives a look, "More fun than videogames?"

His eyebrows raise, "More fun than cleaning toilets."

He sighs, "I guess, you're right."

His father laughs, "You know, I'm right."

* * *

"Ugh," Evie complains. "Nothing's fitting." She sighs, "Looks like I'm not allowed to wear leather anymore." She tries on a blue tank top and black miniskirt, before she holds the magic mirror in front of her, "What about this?"

He writes, "You're always beautiful."

"You have to say that," she complains.

"I'm saying it, because it's true."

Evie shakes her head, "You're no help." before she sets the mirror on the bed and turns back to the full-length mirror, pinching her thigh. "I'm so fat."

There's a knock on the door, and Evie goes to open it. Ben awkwardly smiles, "Mother wants me to tell you to go to dinner."

Evie turns back into the room, "You don't even eat dinner." before she looks through more clothes.

"She thinks I can get you to come," Ben informs, before he notices her create a few new outfits. "What are you doing?"

Evie grins, "I'm taking Mal to the movies tomorrow night." before she frowns and rolls her eyes. "If only something would fit. I feel like I've gained eleven pounds." She stresses, "The amount of food Belle and Jay want me to eat is utterly insane."

"You're going on a date with Mal," Ben realizes.

Evie pauses, "I should have told you. Sorry."

"No. Um," he quickly dismisses. "It's fine. Just… try not to be seen, you know, with the law and everything."

"We'll be back in the dark," she promises, and Ben nods. "This outfit isn't working," Evie decides, before she starts pulling off her clothes and Ben distracts himself by closing the door. "What about this?"

Ben turns back and sees the longer skirt flowing from the waist with the long-sleeved top beneath, before he answers, "Yeah. It's fine."

Evie looks back into the mirror, "You're right. This isn't a dating shirt." before she takes the top off and Ben sees her ribs. Every single one of them can be seen. It must be amazing taking up so little space. Her footsteps must be so quiet, she could go anywhere without being heard. If his father didn't hear his footsteps, he could avoid him a lot better. "What are you looking at?" Ben meets her dark brown eyes, as she hides behind the new top, "You think I'm fat, don't you?"

Ben shakes his head, "No, Evie. You're so skinny, no amount of weight you put on could ever make you fat."

She eyes over him in suspicion, before she puts the red tank top on and pushes the extra fabric underneath the skirt. "There." She turns back to him, "What about this?"

He eyes over her, "I secretly like red."

Evie giggles, "Well, you also secretly like blood, but what about Mal?"

Ben recalls, "She likes shiny objects."

"That's right," Evie grins, before she finds a sparkly, see-through red blouse. She pulls it over, tucks it under the skirt, and looks into the mirror, "A long necklace and a jeweled headband, and I'll drive her positively crazy."

"I'm happy for you," Ben acknowledges.

Evie grins at him, "Thank you. I'm glad to hear that."

He falters, "Are you going to have sex with her?"

Her eyes widen, as she laughs, "Excuse me?"

"Well, now that you're starting to feel… healthier," he hesitates, "I was just asking if you want to have sex now?"

Evie takes a moment, "I don't know." before she observes him. "Does it matter?"

"No." Ben's voice strengthens, "It doesn't. I'm sorry."

"Evie," Belle knocks on the door, before she opens it and eyes between her and Ben. "What's taking you?"

"She has a date with Mal tomorrow night," Ben answers. "She needed some help finding an outfit."

His mother's eyes widen, "You saw her changing?" before his mouth opens and he turns to Evie.

She lies for him, "No. I was just showing him this one."

"Very well, then." Belle looks between them, "Finish here. Evie, I want you over for dinner. Ben—"

"I had a protein shake," he excuses.

"Right." She thinks, "I'll speak with you later." before she moves back into the hall and shuts the door.

When Ben faces Evie, she looks over him, "You weren't uncomfortable, were you?"

"No," Ben agrees.

"Good." Evie moves to her desk, "That's what I thought."

"I mean," he corrects himself, "the only uncomfortable thing would be if you thought me looking at you made you think I liked you like that."

"No." Evie picks something up, "I know you were just thinking about how fat I got."

Ben frowns, "Evie. You're not fat."

"You're nice." She grins, "That's why I made you this."

He watches her move towards him, "What is that?"

She shows him the clip, "It's a unicorn." before she eyes off. "Sorry. I couldn't find any pegasus buttons."

Ben tries not to smile, "Evie."

She pushes his bangs back and puts the clip in it, "Your hair's getting so long. If you don't start taking care of it, your parents are going to make you cut it."

"They're going to make me cut it anyway," Ben counters. "They won't even let me have it to my neck in the winter."

"You could always have Mal do a spell to grow it," she suggests.

"Okay." Ben sternly remarks, "I am not having Mal do any spell on me for hair. With my luck, I'd get chest hair and a beard."

Evie sighs, "Mal always did like the girly guys."

* * *

After Belle knocks, she enters the office, "Ben?"

"I'm pretty sure I didn't give you permission to come in," he complains.

She laughs, "What's in your hair?"

Ben touches the clip, "Oh. Uh." and hurries to remove it. He awkwardly smiles, "Evie gave it to me. She says if I'm going to have long hair, I need to take care of it."

"You know you're getting a hair cut for the new school year?" she reminds him.

Ben falters, "Yes. I know."

She walks up to him, "Here. I can have it."

"But," Ben's eyes shift, "it was a gift. What happened to not giving away gifts, because it's rude or something?"

"You're not going to use it," she points out.

"I never used that foosball table either," he counters, "and you still made me keep that."

She nods, "Very well." before she sits down. "Having a productive night?"

"It's going," he acknowledges. She stays silent, and he observes her, "Mother?"

"I just was thinking," she unsurely starts, before she hesitates, "about what you said to Chad when he tried to leave."

"Okay," Ben slowly answers. "Which part?"

"The part about how he's yours and can't leave," she addresses.

He shrugs, "Okay. What about it?"

She takes a minute, "You can't say that to someone." and he waits for her to explain. "You see, um." She sighs, "You know, you should eat something solid." Ben looks off, and she suggests, "We have fudge. I could quickly spin together an orange frosting for it."

"Orange frosting?" Ben's frown deepens. "Is this conversation really that bad?"

"I just," she hesitates, "someone's experience can cloud any future education, and I'm not sure how well you can understand this."

"Mother," he prompts.

She takes a deep breath, "Okay. Here it is: you know your father hasn't always been the most approachable."

"Hasn't always?" Ben disbelieves.

She sighs, "Anyhow. I realize that over the years he has slipped up every now and again—especially when he's unwell—and I'm afraid you might have subconsciously, uh, learned some things that you shouldn't have."

"What do you mean?"

"Alright. Let's be blunt about this." She takes a moment, "When your father used to tell me I wasn't allowed to leave, pulled me away from the door, and tell me I was his, that was abuse." Her eyes widen, "When you do that to someone, you're not making them stay; you're scaring them away." She gauges his expression, "Now, Chad is a lot like me in that he gets more defensive and hurt than scared, but that doesn't make it a good idea to use your father's tactics on him. It will not work, and just because I stayed, doesn't mean he would."

Ben quiets, "Chad's just so frustrating sometimes."

"As I am to your father," she compares, "but that never gives a person the right to dehumanize someone else. Couples may have this idea of ownership, but it should never hinder the autonomy they have a right to as separate beings."

Ben takes a moment, "Chad and I aren't a couple, though. We're just friends."

"Even so, it does not change the circumstances." She nods, "You treated Chad very poorly, and I need you to understand that if you really care about him, you won't do it again."

Ben whispers, "I understand." and she stands from her seat.

"Good."

"Mother," he speaks up, and her somber brown eyes meet him. "Back in class, I thought it was weird that they said keeping someone from financial independence was abuse. The small amount of money you get from Father, does that count as that?"

"No." Her voice strengthens, "It's his money. He's kind to offer me any."

When she starts to leave, Ben rushes, "Mother. I…" and she turns back to him. He loves her? He sighs, "Have a good night."

She partly smiles, "You too." before she leaves the room.

Ben places a hand to his head. He can't even let his mother know he cares, because he didn't want it to mean what she would think it means. He grabs a new can of soda, muttering, "Which, it's not like I wouldn't mean it that way too." He listens intently, as the can cracks open and the loud sizzle slowly fades. Why can't he like people normally? Why can't he eat normally? Why can't he just be normal? He takes in the calming drink, until he shakes the empty can and grabs another. This is normal. Everything else in his life might be a mess, but this is his normal.


	58. Treasure

**Treasure **

**(Tuesday Night- Wednesday Morning, July 23****rd****\- 24****th****)**

"Everyone's staring," Mal whispers, when they enter the theater lobby.

Evie smiles, "Since when do you care about what other people think?"

"Since what others think determines if we get to stay here," she strains a smile in return, before they make it up to the food counter. "I would like caramel milk duds, the cookie dough pieces, and… does soda have water in it?"

"It's mostly water and syrup," the girl with the blond ponytail honestly replies.

Mal turns to Evie, "And we're not allowed to bring our own food in here."

"She can't drink water," Evie explains.

"Sorry," she unsurely apologizes.

"I'll take an ice water," Evie cheerfully continues.

Mal hears a guy snicker, "Take a look at that." before she sees someone in her peripheral vision reach for Evie. She takes his wrist and spins his arm up. "Ow."

Her eyes widen, "She's mine. You don't get to touch her." before she grits her teeth. "Understand? Or do I need to make it more clear?"

He winces at her tighter grip, "I'm clear. I'm clear."

She glows her eyes, "Never touch anyone without permission."

"Mal," Evie places one hand on her shoulder and the other on her upper arm. "It's okay."

"He was going to hurt you," she stressfully breathes.

"No one's hurting anyone," Evie reassures, and she feels Mal shake. "M. Let go. Please."

Mal notices pain in his face, as his friends stand in fear. She slowly lets go and murmurs, "Sorry." before shutting her eyes.

Evie turns back to the concerned girl, "You can skip our order." before she guides Mal towards the theater room number. "Mal. We're safe here. You don't need to worry so much."

"I know." She shakes her head, "I don't know what I was thinking."

"I'm pretty sure I know," Evie quietly remarks, as they go to sit near the back. She faces her, "But no one here is going to try that. And they wouldn't get away with it."

Mal slightly nods, "I know." before she partly smiles, takes Evie's hand, and lifts the hand up to kiss it. "I'm so glad to have you."

Evie smiles, "I'm glad to have you too."

* * *

There's a knock on the door, as Belle announces, "Evie. It's me."

Mal feels Evie try to leave, and she holds her tighter, "Ignore it."

"If I ignore it, she'll come in," Evie reminds her.

"Is Mal in there?" Belle concerns.

"We're naked," Mal calls out.

Evie stresses, "Mal. We're not naked."

"She doesn't need to know that," Mal concludes, before she kisses Evie's neck. "Another three hours like this, and who knows—"

"You have a minute to get dressed," Belle warns. "I need to speak with you two."

"Ugh," Mal complains, before she lets go of Evie, grabs her long-sleeved shirt from beside the bed, and pulls it over her black sports bra. Evie grabs her wired push-up, maneuvers it under her tank top, and clasps it in the back. Mal sees the time, "It's only eight."

"So much for beauty sleep," she complains.

"Coming in," Belle warns, before she enters the room and shuts the door. "Did you two have a nice night?"

"Best in weeks," Mal fakes a grin.

"Good," Belle seriously states, before she tosses the newspaper to them. "Because, the people seem to think so too."

Mal takes the newspaper, "Holy Hades."

"That's a phrase for it," Belle agrees.

Evie sees the picture of Mal kissing her hand, as she whispers the heading, "Dragon Mal fiercely protects her treasure."

"It won't be long before people come up with some conspiracy theory about you using magic on the king to harbor you two here."

"What do we do?" Mal questions.

Belle takes a deep breath, "Well, Ben has enough to answer for after Chad's not-so-discreet confession, so I'll just have him answer for this while he's answering for that."

"Meaning you're not giving him a choice," Mal points out.

"I'm not making him do anything," Belle reassures. "I'm merely going to suggest it."

She scoffs, "Right. All you have to do is smile and touch his shoulder, and he will do literally anything you want him to."

She hesitates, "Have you and Ben spoken about me?"

Mal's expression falls, "No. Why?"

"Oh. No reason." Belle continues, "Anyway, I'm sure when Ben clears up his thing with Chad to the reporter that they will want to know about you too."

"And you're okay feeding him to them?" her brows raise.

Evie whispers, "Mal. We're guests here."

"I don't care." Mal faces Belle, "He can barely speak English, and he doesn't even know what happened last night. How is he supposed to explain this?"

Belle folds her hands in front of her, "I imagine in the same way that he admitted to assaulting you on live television with little repercussions."

Mal squeezes her hand and takes a deep breath, "Ben is not going to talk to a reporter about how the girl he assaulted— and another girl— are breaking the law in his own home."

"Like you said," she evenly expresses, "he will if I ask him." Mal's mouth gapes, and Belle glances down, "I just thought you should know your secret may not be secret anymore."

When Belle starts to leave, Evie speaks up, "What's going to happen to us?"

She stops, hand on the doorframe, "That depends on how Ben spins the story." before she turns back around and offers them a solemn look. "Believe it or not, Mal, I really did like you, and whatever happens, I would really appreciate it if you could stay quiet about anything you've seen or heard this summer."

Mal takes a moment, "Like what?"

Belle strains a smile, as her pitch raises, "Oh. Like everything." Mal blankly stares at her, and she points to the door, "I'll just be leaving now."

After Belle awkwardly exits and shuts the door, Mal's jaw drops, "That was not okay."

"She's stressed," Evie informs.

"And that makes it okay for her to do this to Ben?"

"He's used to reporters," she reminds her.

"Yeah," Mal agrees, "but it's not like he's used to explaining why two of the people he got out of the Isle, one of which is the girlfriend he broke up with and then attempted to assault, are now together and breaking the law under his supervision."

"We're not breaking the law if we're not having sex," she counters.

"People will think we are," Mal asserts, "and Ben's going to be the one who pays for it."

"Because getting sent to the Isle would be nothing," Evie murmurs.

Mal takes a deep breath, "Evie. I didn't mean—"

"I know," she shakes her head. "You're just worried about Ben."

"It's not right that his mother has so much power over him," Mal explains. "She has just as much power over him as my mom did, and she doesn't even need to hypnotize him."

"Belle doesn't try to hurt anyone," Evie defends.

"She knows she's hurting Ben." Mal sighs, "But you're right. It's not like Ben minds it, so she's not technically hurting him."

"Actually," Evie meets her jade eyes. "I feel like Ben does mind." She eyes down, "He gets stressed around her, and when he's close to her, he can get sad."

Mal moves the hair from Evie's face and sees her crying, "Evie?"

She shakes her head, "He's been trying so hard to set boundaries with her, Mal, and now she's just going to go and talk him into what has to be the most uncomfortable interview ever?"

"We can't call Emergency Services." Mal sadly laughs, "I mean, what could we say. Ben's mother is using his feelings for her to do whatever she wants?"

"The school year will start soon," Evie thinks. "Maybe things will be better then."

"Until the school year ends and Ben graduates," Mal contemplates.

* * *

\- **Posted**: 11/05/2019

\- So, I'm pretty sure I messed up the calendar again. On like all my coordinated stories, so don't mind any inconsistencies. I started showing dates for author purposes anyway, so it shouldn't have too much of an impact on the readers... unless I miss someone's birthday, change the date of a major event, or something stupid like that.

\- **Megan** Thank you, and I'm glad you got better. I'm so glad you've connected with the characters on a personal level. That will make it that much better when I kill them off. JK... maybe.

\- **Darthamster12** My YouTube is claiming you're a hamster, not a dark master. I apologize. Lol. Thank you for subscribing. I can guarantee I will not be flooding your notifications, although I do hope to add a video at some point. The project I'm thinking of requires me to find a free recording software, though, and I don't have internet at home. If anyone can recommend a video/sound recording software that will record sound while earbuds are in, that would be great. I hate making any noise at all. As far as your question that you asked on Side Problems: In the Pack, I was doing my best to avoid werewolves just because of Ben's beast nature; however, someone requested a fic where Lonnie was dating a werewolf, and it got me inspired (WAY TOO INSPIRED). I've explained in these fics that vampires and werewolves have different strains of the Acuti Retro Virus. The idea I laid out in Side Problems is that Ben's grandfather had a brother, who had a son, who had another son (Ben's cousin). The grandfathers had the werewolf virus, but one of them traveled to the Arabian desert, "bonded" with a lion, and then found the lamp in the Cave of Wonders. He used one of the wishes to turn the lion into a human, but because he hadn't returned the lamp to the cave yet, the wishes started to revert back. This lead to a carnivorous "human" with a lion's roar, who then mated with the human with the werewolf virus. Ben's father had a problematic puberty, so his parents made a deal with the enchantress so that Adam would take the physical form of whoever his chosen mate was; however, the magic couldn't remove the retro virus that had already changed his DNA. Because Adam's species wasn't exactly human, the virus had to adapt to the few lion genes he had inherited. This is why when Mal was "making out" with Ben, that the virus didn't pass on to her (not that it could anyway). The virus Ben inherited was mutated for his unique species, whereas the regular werewolf virus had evolved to infect humans. This is why Ben wouldn't be able to unknowingly infect anyone. The only way the virus could pass on is to a beast-like offspring. So, is Ben a werewolf? Well, in this universe, werewolf is a derogatory term, so no. Lol.

\- If anyone feels like they're not getting enough content from me, I just posted a horror story to FictionPress… I could have sworn I already had an account, but apparently not. The story is called "Ashland Horror", and I'm going to have it as a compilation of short horror stories. Feel free to comment on the first "chapter". I promise it will feel very Ben-esk (feel free to correct me if I used or spelled -esk wrong.)


	59. Companionship

**Companionship **

**(Wednesday Morning- Wednesday Evening, July 24****th****)**

When Ben exits his room, Chad stops him in the hall, and Ben slightly shakes his head, "What are you doing here?"

"I'm worried," he frowns.

Ben sighs, eyeing the staircase, "Chad. You're going to make me late."

"School can wait." He informs, "My dad's outside."

"I'm walking," he sternly states.

Ben tries to walk past, and he holds his shoulders, "Ben. You have to start eating."

He furrows his brows and tugs away, "Let me go."

"No." Chad shouts, "Would you just look at yourself? You're losing so much hair."

Ben cautiously eyes over him, mouth agape, before he quietly comments, "I have to get to school." and nudges past him.

The following weekend when Ben goes home, he sees his parents and King Charming in the alcove sitting area. His father asks, "How was your week?"

"Fine," Ben merely says, before he passes them and heads up the staircase. He enters his room, opens his backpack, and lays his homework across the bed.

There's a knock, and he hears Charming's voice, "Ben?" He turns to the door and watches the it slowly open. "May way speak for a moment?"

He frowns, "Yeah. Sure."

Ben sits on the bed, and Charming sits next to him, "Ben. Your parents and I are concerned about your eating."

"What about it?" he unsurely replies.

"Do you know what anorexia is?"

"Yeah," he recalls. "Why?" Charming doesn't speak, and Ben looks at him in disbelief, "I'm not anorexic."

"Ben," he tries to reason.

"I eat," he yells. "I'm not anorexic."

"Your parents say you don't eat with them, and Chad says he hasn't seen you."

"Because, there's no point," he frustrates. "It's not like it does anything, and there's more important stuff to do. I can't just eat all day long."

"Okay," Charming accepts. "But you do know you have to eat, right?"

"Yeah." Ben settles, "Of course."

There's a loud bang, and Ben opens his eyes. He hears his father yell, "You left. You left, and you didn't tell me?" Ben sits up and listens. "You were gone for three hours, Belle."

When Ben walks to the door, he hears his mother reason with fear, "I was just at the grocery store."

"That's Mrs. Potts's job."

"I wanted to try something new," she explains. "You have me here all day and night, the same food and the same activities. I just wanted to try something new."

Ben sighs, before he opens the door; however, silence fills the hall. He trudges towards the dining room, walks into the kitchen, and sees her picking up pieces of a broken plate, "Mother?" He looks around, "Where's Father?"

"Not sure," she answers. "Why?"

"I thought I heard something," he slowly states.

She sets the broken fragments onto the counter, "It was probably just me." as she eyes down in thought. "I used to be so good at washing dishes, but now…" She shakes her head and smiles at him, "I did make some orange frosting if you've changed your mind."

"I haven't," he assures.

"Alright, then." She runs her hands under the water and wipes them clean, "Oh, and honey?" She turns to smile at him, "People are starting to speculate about you and Chad. I think it best that you cover it with Snow White, before it gets out of hand."

Ben frowns, "Oh. Uh, right."

She places a hand on his shoulder, and he glances at it. "I know it's hard talking about it, but you need to control the narrative."

"The narrative?" Ben disbelieves.

"Well, yes." She laughs, "Chad's insinuated that you're a sexual predator of a homosexual nature with a blood fetish."

Ben opens his mouth to counter it's true, but the wording is too inaccurate. He sighs, "He thinks that, because that's what I told him."

"But you weren't expecting him to tell anyone else," she assumes. "So, what do you plan on telling the press?"

He shakes his head, "I can't lie. You know that."

"Honey," she starts. "The main reason you had that, eh, interaction with Chad, I don't think you could admit it to the public, not if you can't even admit it to yourself."

He takes a moment, "You need to stop calling me honey."

"Right. Sorry." She excuses, "I forgot."

Ben stares at her, "People do things for more than one reason. All I have to do tell the public one of the reasons I did what I did."

"And what reason is that?"

* * *

Snow White smiles, "King Ben. You're here to address the rumor that you're the friend Prince Chad spoke of in his most recent livestream."

He straightens up in the armchair, "Yes."

"Are you the friend he mentioned?"

Ben's heart inexplicably starts to race, "Yes." and his eyes lower. Why is he nervous? This entire thing was planned, and he's being interviewed by someone trusted. They're following an outline for the interview. It's not a trap, so why does he feel so cornered?

"In the livestream he claims blood is a sexual desire for you and that you've had his before," she informs. "Is that true?" Ben blankly stares, and she concerns, "King Ben?"

"Sorry," he apologizes. "I just need a second to phrase this right." His elbows rest on his knees, as he squeezes his left hand over his right fist. He relaxes and takes a deep breath, before he meets Snow White's amber eyes, "Chad thinks the blood is a sexual thing, because that's the only way I could describe it at the time. But now I know it's a lot more about companionship. I feel closer to the people I do it with."

"And you've done it with Prince Chad?"

"He's been my friend since," Ben's face scrunches, "forever, actually. If there's anyone I would trust enough to get that close to, it would be him."

"So, it's not something you do randomly?" she questions.

"No," he confirms. "And, you know, it's not even something I like to do. It's not something I think about doing. With some people, it just feels like a comfortable thing to do."

"Given your family's history," Snow White covers, "some people might think this is an excuse to hide a hybrid or carnivore biology. Can you reassure the people this is not the case?"

"It wouldn't matter if I were," Ben frowns. "Twenty-five percent of the population is documented as hybrids, and ten percent of people are listed as carnivores. A lot of people are hybrids, and there are resources for those people. That being said, as a royal, you would think I would have easier access to those resources. There would be no reason for me to resort to desperate measures, which is how you can be sure I'm not doing it merely for carnivorous reasons. Being that close to someone can create a bond, which is why I wouldn't do it with just anyone. It would have to be someone I trust."

"Which leads to the question," she continues. "You keep mentioning this emotional connection that happens, so how did you feel when Prince Chad said you would never have that with him again?"

"Uh." He twists in his seat, folding his hands, "It hurt. A lot." He shakes his head, "And, honestly, I didn't take it very well." He hesitates, "I wouldn't blame him if he truly decided not to be my friend again, but even the stupid arguments we get into is a lot better than the time's we've separated." He breathes, "Chad's always been a part of my life. When he's not a part of it, it feels like something's just missing." He wets his lips, "Now that I've had that closeness with him, it just makes it that much harder." Ben eyes the camera, "I don't know if he could ever understand the connection I felt, but I meant it when I said I'd give up that interaction should it otherwise mean our friendship would end. I had no intention of breaking that promise. Just having him in my life, it was going to have to be good enough." Ben glances down, sighing, before he faces the reporter again. "Chad thought that if I was still thinking about doing that with him, then I would act on it."

When Ben falters, she questions, "Did he have any reason to think you would act on it?"

Ben slowly nods, "What I mentioned before with my…" He shakes his head, "Sorry. It's still hard to believe. My attempted assault on Mal, I made it seem like I was trying to grope her or something, but that's not what happened." He pauses, "I broke up with Mal, because I thought it would be better for her; however, I was taking it hard. I could feel the distance between us, and, I suppose, for a moment I thought that if I was closer to her, it would fix that feeling." Snow White doesn't say anything, and he continues, "When I started to cut her neck, Mal used her claws to defend herself. I'm thankful for that. Doing what I had been about to do might have felt like the right thing at the time, but I know I wouldn't have felt the same connection had it not been consensual. I have no intention of repeating that mistake with anyone."

"So, if Prince Chad did decide to continue your friendship, you wouldn't try to drink any blood from him?"

"No," Ben confirms. "Certainly not without his permission."

She nods, "Now that we've covered what happened, may I ask what I feel like many people might like to know: why? If you don't need the blood, then why do you do this?"

Ben lifts a shoulder, "Why do people hug? Or kiss?" before he shifts his seating. "Look. I know this isn't a very normal thing, but to me, blood can feel warm and comforting, especially when it comes from someone you know cares about you. I don't like that it makes me feel that way, and I wish it didn't, but that's why I try not to do it that often."

"So, you don't do it that often, and you wouldn't do it with just anyone?"

"Correct," he confirms.

"So, who have you had this interaction with? Mal, I assume?"

"Uh, no." Ben uncomfortably smiles, "Mal never actually liked the idea of the blood thing. Anything I might have done to her would be completely regrettable. But, no. As far as actual interactions go, Chad went along with it once or twice." He takes a deep breath, "Um. There is someone else, who I've paid in poor attempts to feel better, and then… I mean, there was a friend last school year. I was stressed and really not taking care of myself, and he had an idea about the blood thing at the time. So, he insisted that I should have some."

"Insisted?" her eyes widen.

Ben takes a moment, "So, admittedly, it's not like I'm a vegetarian. I eat a lot of meat, actually; however, last year there were a lot of rumors about the amount of meat I ate and what that might mean, so I stopped eating meat." He sighs, "It was really bad for me. I got really tired, really irritable, and I could not for the life of me stop thinking about rare steak." before folding his hands. "Now, my friend thought that whether biological or just psychological, that it was something I needed. I didn't want to get caught in the kitchen, because of the stupid rumors, so he came up with the idea of just giving me some blood himself." Ben thinks, "He's the first person I can recall doing that with."

"And how did that make you feel?" she slowly inquires.

Ben shakes his head, "I couldn't stop myself. It felt like something that was missing was getting fixed, and I just wanted more."

"And what happened afterwards?"

His eyes lower to meet her, "I got upset. I told him never to let me do that again, and I commanded him to never ask me if I wanted to do it." before pausing. "He promised that he would never ask me again, right before he said he would be there if I needed him."

"Do you believe he gave you permission to drink his blood without asking?" Snow White unsurely questions.

"He cares about me," Ben explains, "and he knows I wouldn't ask for it. He was saying that if I needed it, he would be willing to offer himself without question. I assume he was thinking it would reduce any anxiety I had about the situation."

"He sounds loyal," she points out.

"He is," Ben breathes. "He's very loyal, but I'm afraid to even talk to him right now. The thing is, I don't have a very good idea of why I do this or what it means, and having had that interaction with him has made things awkward for me. I don't know what to do or say now, and as easy as it might seem just to tell him this, he's also really smart and I'd rather not have another scientific discussion on what I'm feeling and why I'm feeling it."

"But you know why, don't you?" She reminds him, "It's warm and comforting?"

"It is," he hesitates, "but there's more to it than that. And, you know, I wasn't very good at explaining it to Chad, and I'm not doing a very good job of explaining it now. But I can only explain it as well as I understand it, and I really don't understand it that well. I know the basic reasons of why I do it, but that's not enough. There's a lot of people out there who have desires— or things that would simply make them feel better— who don't act on those things. The fact that I have been doing this, I now I owe people a real explanation. I just don't have one worthy enough."

Snow White nods, "Even if that's true, you've done a good job trying to explain. The only question I can think of now is about Mal. You seemed to be saying that while you were in a relationship with her she didn't consent to the blood interaction, and, still, after you had broken up with her, you had forced that interaction onto her. You say you felt distant from her, but is there more you're not saying?"

Ben stares at her, "I don't remember it." before he eyes down and bites his lip. "All I know is I had been trying to avoid her, because I couldn't stop thinking about being closer to her. I told her to stay away from me, but one day we were in the kitchen." He pauses before meeting her eyes, "The next thing I knew she had tears in her eyes and I had scratches on my cheek. Clearly, I had attacked her, and I had made myself forget it afterwards."

"Is selective memory something you've struggled with?" she concerns.

Ben takes a minute, "I wouldn't have thought so before, but I've recently remembered some other things. I'm pretty there's a lot of things I don't remember that I should."

"Mal's recently gotten out of the hospital," Snow White changes course. "How is she handling it?"

"She tried talking to me," Ben merely states. "I let her. Nothing happened."

"There's video of Mal and Evie at the theater," she prompts. "She seemed a little displaced in it. Is she doing okay?"

"I thought she was," Ben evenly expresses. He knows what she means, though. Mal went after that guy, before he even had the chance to touch Evie. "It's possible, however, that her experiences from the Isle has caused her to be unusually cautious."

Snow White nods, before she addresses, "There's also a picture of Mal kissing Evie's hand. People have pointed out that you have stated that as a romantic interaction in the past."

"That doesn't have to mean anything," Ben unsurely smiles. "Mal and Evie aren't from here. When they came here, they saw social gestures and had to figure out what it meant. They could have interpreted it as something done between people who are close."

"Well, considering their history," she informs, "many people think they're dating."

Ben's brows rise, "What if they are?"

"That would be illegal, wouldn't it?"

"No." He distinguishes, "If Mal and Evie are watching a movie and holding each other, that's romantic behavior. What's illegal is homosexual behavior pertaining to sodemy—or sex. If they're not having sex, they're not breaking the law. And I told them that, so they know not to."

"You can't know if they are, though," she puts forth.

"I would know," he strongly reassures. "They would tell me."

"You're certain of that?"

"Mal's my ex-girlfriend, Evie and I have been there for each other, and I wouldn't turn them in even if they were having sex." He nods, "So, yes, I would know."

"As king," Snow White points out, "wouldn't it be your duty to turn them in?"

Ben sits on the edge of his seat, "The sodemy law is not an enforced law. It's only there to keep high-status people in line and to prosecute low-status people who've done nothing wrong. It's a law used when no other options are available. That makes this law a joke, and if no one else is enforcing it, I'm not going to turn anyone in just for the sake of doing it."

"If you're so against this law, then why not remove it?"

Ben sighs, "I can't."

"You're king now," she reminds him. "You can create or remove any law you wish."

"Not this one." He frowns, "I'm biased, and everyone knows it." before he nods. "My girlfriend is bisexual, so I can't change the law myself."

"Mal's not your girlfriend anymore."

"But she was," he reinforces, "and I can't remove or create any laws for her benefit or disbenefit." His frown deepens, "I know at least three people, personally, who have engaged in homosexual sex, so believe me when I say I'd like this law removed; however, because I've been so trusted with this information, I've become biased. The only way to remove the law now would be to get a majority vote from the council."

"So, why haven't you gotten the council together?"

"Because. I'm pretty sure the majority of the council is going to vote to keep the law." Ben eyes the floor, "And once that happens, I can't ask for a vote for another five years."

* * *

"Be honest with me," Belle sits in the back of the limo with Ben. "How much of what you said was true?"

"It was all true." He shakes his head, "And I still felt like I was talking out of my ass."

"Well, she did ask you quite a few times to reassure the public that you're not some out-of-control carnivore, and you weren't exactly able to do that."

"Because, I am," he yells at her, before he looks off and tiredly laughs. "What other choice did I have than to talk around it?"

She looks at him, "You could have told the people what they needed to hear to have enough reassurance in the authority of their country not to question it."

Ben stares at the tinted divider in front of them, "Why do you always have to make things so political?"

"Everything's political, Ben. Everything you say, everything you do, it matters." She frowns, "You should know that by now."


	60. The Talk

**The Talk **

**(Thursday Afternoon, July 25****th****)**

"Desert whether can get really hot during the day and really cold at night," Aladdin informs. "These cloaks are really good for that." He shows Carlos, "The inner layer draws heat out of the skin and protects from sunburn. The outer layer will trap the heat from the inner layer. At night you wear both layers, but during the day you unzip the top layer." He demonstrates before facing him, "Got it?"

Carlos slightly nods, "I think so."

"There's no black or red," Aziz points out.

Carlos takes a cloak from the rack, "I'm okay with white." before he contemplates. "It would look better with fur." He notices them stare at him, "What? I'm just saying."

"If you wear fur," Aziz points out, "people will think it's real."

"You won't want to carry something so bulky with you anyway," Aladdin inputs. "A fur layer is going to take up more room in your bag than a fleece one."

Carlos frowns, "I guess you're right."

"Come on," he smiles. "I know you want some shorts."

Carlos and Aziz follow Aladdin to where the pants are, but then Carlos hears something. He turns and notices one of the security men tearing a leather rope through the air, and the shirtless teenager yelps. "Wow."

"Uh. Yeah." Aziz addresses, "Most places in Agrabah will offer a whipping option to shoplifters. A lot of people prefer to keep a clean record."

The whips are steady, and Carlos partly smiles, "How long does it go on for?"

"It's one whip per dollar of the stolen item," he informs before unsurely continuing. "A lot of people say it's bad, but at least it's better than getting your hand cut off."

Carlos continues to stare, "I don't see a problem with it." and he can't help but grin. "I mean, talk about tall, dark, and handsome."

Aziz looks from the muscular security guy to Carlos, before he nudges him, "Hey."

Carlos laughs, "What?" before he looks back at the scene. "I'm just saying, I wouldn't mind taking a turn." His expression falls, "Oh, no."

"What is it?" Aziz concerns, before Carlos glances down and he sees it.

"Why did these pants have to be so light?" he worries.

Aziz takes his cloak off, "Here." before he gives it to Carlos.

He covers himself, "Thanks."

"Hold on," he comments, before he walks over to his father. "Dad?"

"Is Carlos the same size as you?" he questions.

"Uh, yeah," he answers, before he watches his father looks through the shorts. "I think he would prefer the darker colors."

"This isn't about what he prefers." His dad reminds him, "He's not used to the heat like you. He's going to need lighter colors."

"Um, Dad," Aziz starts. "Carlos kind of had an accident."

He raises his eyebrows, "An accident?"

"Of a sexual nature?" he clarifies.

Aladdin looks from Carlos to Aziz, "Right. Um." He thinks, "Show him to the bathroom, and then go to the car." He hands him the keys, "Okay?"

"Yeah," he agrees, before he hesitates. "Um, and, I'm not sure what they were taught on the Isle, but I do know none of the VK's were offered a sex ed course when they got here."

His dad nods, "Okay. Thanks for letting me know."

* * *

After Aziz switches on the car and unlocks the doors, he turns on the air conditioning and moves to the back. He notices Carlos's expression, "You don't need to feel ashamed. This happens to a lot of guys at some point."

Carlos faces him, "Has it ever happened to you?"

"Well, no," he answers, and Carlos looks away. "But that's just because I practice self-discipline. I've trained myself to think about more important things." Carlos takes a deep breath. "Maybe next time you get turned on, you should just think about something else."

"Just think about something else?" Carlos frustrates. "The last study I saw said that guys documented thinking about sex an average of eighteen times a day. That's once every waking hour, and you're telling me that you've just trained yourself not to think about it?"

Aziz quiets, "I fast. That probably helps."

Carlos shakes his head, "I spent most of my life living on one meal a day. I'm not going to fucking fast."

He frowns, "You don't have to. What happened to you is normal. You don't have to do anything about it if you don't want to."

Carlos widens his eyes at him, "You're going to turn this into a choice now?" before the door opens. "How about you just frickin' eat, so you're not so sexually repressed?"

Aladdin shuts the door and looks in the back. Both of the boys quiet, before he eyes from Carlos to Aziz, "Why does he think you're not eating?" He eyes down, and his father sternly asks, "Aziz Ali, are you fasting?"

"Yes," he whispers, and he watches his father turn to the front.

Aladdin gulps, as tears intrude his eyes, "You realize your mom is in the hospital?"

"Yes," Aziz answers.

"Then why are you doing this?" He looks into the mirror, "I told you that if you wanted to prove you didn't have a problem, then you could wait to fast for Ramadan."

He hesitates, "I know."

"But you still did it?" Aziz fails to answer. "Why?"

He takes a moment, "I thought I had to."

"Why?" he asks again.

Aziz shakes his head, "I don't know why." and he hears his dad cry. "I just feel better when I do it, and it's just intermediate fasting. I still eat. It's not like Mom. I'm fine."

After a minute of quiet, Carlos looks between Aziz and Aladdin, "What did I do?"

"Nothing," Aladdin breathes, pulling himself together. "You did nothing wrong, Carlos." He hands him the shopping bag, "Here. I got a few things for you."

* * *

When they make it into the palace, Aladdin commands, "Aziz, go to your room. Carlos, sit with me, please."

Aladdin goes over to the dining table, and Carlos notices Aziz start up the stairs. He hurries over to him, "Hey." Aziz turns to him, and he notices his frown, "I'm, uh, sorry I got you in trouble."

"I told you, didn't I?" Aziz stresses. "That my dad thought I had the same illness my mom does, even though I don't?"

Carlos eyes off, "I vaguely remember."

Aziz stares at him, "I really feel like hitting you right now."

"You could, you know," he offers.

Aziz takes a deep breath, lays a hand on Carlos's shoulder, and shuts his eyes, "See you later." before he turns up the stairs.

"Carlos?" Aladdin calls. Carlos moves back over to the dining area and sits across from him. "Look. I'd like to talk about what happened."

"Okay," Carlos unsurely replies.

"Have you ever actually had an adult sit down and talk with you about sex or puberty?"

He glances down, "Not really."

"Well, the first thing you need to know is that for someone your age this is completely normal," he reassures, "especially in, um, exciting situations."

"Okay," he frowns.

"Some people find that if they try thinking about something disgusting, then it can stop an, er, erection, but that doesn't guarantee that it will stop. And it's okay if it doesn't."

"Okay," Carlos says again.

"Basically," he concludes, "it's just your body preparing you for when you do have sex."

"Yeah," Carlos agrees, "and I have."

"Right. Um." Aladdin thinks, "Do you have any questions?"

He takes a moment, "Can I have the lighter now?"

Aladdin takes a moment, "You're upset that you got Aziz in trouble."

"No," Carlos counters. "I already apologized, and he said we'd talk later. That usually means he needs to talk to someone."

"So, you don't want the lighter to hurt yourself?" he cautiously asks.

"No." Carlos's eyebrows raise, "I want it, because that whipping was hotter than any porn I've ever seen."

Aladdin frowns, "I don't feel like I'm parenting very well right now."

"Because, you don't want to give me the lighter?" Carlos assumes.

"Partly."

Carlos nods, "Well, does Aziz need permission to masturbate?"

"This is different," he counters.

Carlos unsurely expresses, "I'm not seeing a difference."

Aladdin sighs, "Fine." before he takes out the lighter and hands it to him. "You have an hour. Give it back at dinner."

"Cool," Carlos smiles, before he stands and races up the stairs.

"Be careful," Aladdin shouts, before he takes a moment, runs a hand through his hair, and heads upstairs. He moves past the living room and goes to knock on Aziz's door.

"Come in."

He enters the room, Aziz sets down his phone, and his father sits on the end of the bed, "We need to talk about this."

"I know you think I have a problem," Aziz comments, "but I don't."

"Then why are you doing this?" he frowns.

"I told you," he emphasizes. "I just feel better when I do it."

"Explain, please."

"My thoughts are clearer," he answers.

His dad takes a moment, "Are your thoughts clearer or numb, nonexistent?" Aziz doesn't speak, and he continues, "When your mom doesn't eat, it makes her numb to her feelings and the things happening around her. You know this isn't a good thing."

"For me it is," Aziz quietly insists.

"Why?" his dad asks again.

"Why do you keep asking why?" Aziz frustrates.

"For the same reason three-year-olds do," he persists. "To understand the world around them." Aziz eyes down, and he sighs, "Az. I really want to know the world you're in. I need to know why it's so important that you do this."

Aziz takes a deep breath, "When I fast, I don't think about sex."

"That's what this is about?" he sadly says. "You don't want to think about sex?" Aziz doesn't speak, and his dad reminds him, "I just got done trying to tell Carlos that sexual desires and reactions are normal. It's not any different for you."

He frowns, "You didn't give him the same talk you and Mom gave me, did you?"

His Dad takes a breath, "Carlos isn't religious, and he's had homosexual experiences. I couldn't just tell him that when God created us our lifespans were shorter, and He had to make reproduction possible at a younger age to ensure survival." Aziz doesn't say anything, and he continues, "Look. I know your mother is pretty strict about these things, but I don't care if you think about sex. And I'm not going to get upset if you have sex before marriage." He reassures, "It's a normal thing to think about. You shouldn't have to suppress it with starvation."

After a minute, Aziz looks at him, "What are you going to do about Carlos?"

"What do you mean?" he asks in confusion.

"Well, you took him in because he was having homosexual sex, didn't you?"

"I took him in because he was getting hurt," he corrects.

"So, you don't think what he's doing is wrong?" Aziz accuses.

"Az," his dad takes a moment. "Does having Carlos here bother you?"

"Kind of," he strongly admits. "Yeah."

"But you two are friends?" he slowly states.

"Yeah," Aziz comments, "but that doesn't mean I want to see him every day."

He nods, "And does that have anything to do with his homosexual behavior?"

"He tried to kiss me last year," Aziz stresses. "He can't live with us."

He thinks, "You share different rooms, and he keeps a later schedule than you do."

"I don't care," Aziz asserts. "I don't want him here."

He pauses, "Why?"

"Because," he heavily breathes. "He has a type: male with a dark complexion. What do you think is going to happen if he sees me every day?"

"I think," he addresses, "that if Carlos does anything, you can remind him that you're just friends and that you're not interested." Aziz's breathing slows, as he tears up. "Am I wrong? Do you have any reason to believe he would ignore you if you said that?"

"No," Aziz sniffles, as the tears leave his eyes.

His dad takes a breath, "You don't need to spend any more time with him than you're comfortable with, but he needs a place to stay that's safe for him."

He gulps, "I understand."

"If you want, I can talk to him."

"No," Aziz shakes his head. "I don't want him to know about this."

"Why not?" he questions.

"Because." Aziz breathes, "I don't want him to think I hate him."

"Alright," his dad accepts. "I won't say anything."

He continues to sit with him, and after a minute Aziz says, "I heard you tell Belle that Carlos is too young to be homosexual. At what age would you believe him? Twenty-one?"

"I'm not sure," he admits, before he contemplates, "I think my doubt mostly comes from him never dating a girl before. He's never kissed or had sex with a girl, so how can he know he doesn't like it?" Aziz fails to comment, and he questions, "Would you rather have me encourage Carlos to date girls or just let him be?"

Aziz shakes his head, "I just want him to be happy."

"He's not happy right now."

"No," he admits.

"Do you think he would be happier if he dated girls?"

Aziz meets his dad's eyes, "I believe him when he says he's not attracted to girls. If he's not attracted to them, could he be happy dating one?"

"If the girl is already someone he's close to," he speculates, and Aziz turns away. "Would you be more comfortable around Carlos if he was dating a girl?"

"I don't know," he frowns. "I just hate that this thing has gotten between us."

His dad nods, "Is there anything else you would like to say?"

"No," he murmurs.

"Okay," he nods again before standing from the bed. "I'm going to cook dinner. I want you to come eat when it's done. I don't like the stress you're putting on your body."

"I'm too tired," Aziz whispers.

"It will be an hour or two," he informs. "If you want to rest, I'll come wake you up."

"Okay," he accepts.

"Okay," Aladdin confirms, before he exits the room and shuts the door.

* * *

After dinner Carlos meets Aziz at the top of the stairs, "Hey."

He turns around, "Hey."

"Did you want to talk?" Carlos unsurely reminds him.

"Um." He takes a moment, "Yeah." before he nods to the balcony. "Let's go outside." Carlos follows him past the living room, through the thick curtain, and they walk over to the stone railing. Aziz stares at the city lights, "I'm not mad at you."

"Okay," he simply responds.

Aziz turns to him, "Carlos."

After a moment, he questions, "Yes?"

"I'm sorry I got upset earlier," he apologizes.

"It's fine." Carlos thinks, "I'm sorry I yelled at you in the car." Aziz eyes down, and Carlos watches him shake, "Az?" He brings a hand to his eyes, and Carlos watches him wipe the tears away. "What's wrong?" He keeps silent, looking down into the dark courtyard. Carlos glances from the curtains to Aziz, "Do you want me to leave?" He shakes his head, and Carlos moves closer. He looks from Aziz to the lamp-lit gardens, and after a minute Aziz's breathing seem to match the slow crickets. Carlos notice's Aziz's strained posture, and he reaches for his hand. Aziz relaxes, looks from their hands to Carlos, and then kisses him. "Az," Carlos whispers, as his eyes widen.

He lets go of Carlos's hand, folds his arms, and stares back at the city, "Sorry."

"Az." Carlos stares at him, "Are you gay?"

"No one's gay," Aziz stresses. "It's a choice."

"Did Allah tell you that?" Carlos counters, but he keeps quiet. "Az. It's okay to be gay."

"If I'm homosexual," his eyes gloss over, "then I'll be killed."

Carlos takes a minute, "Why?"

"If homosexuality is a choice," Aziz informs, "then I'm choosing to be immoral. If I'm immoral, then I'm unfit to rule this holy kingdom."

"Az," Carlos comments. "No one's going to kill you."

"If my parents care about my afterlife, they're obligated to."

"But they wouldn't." He questions, "Would they?"

Aziz shakes his head, "My dad wouldn't be able to go through with it, but I don't know. And if my parents don't, then someone from my kingdom will."

"No," Carlos shakes his head. "You can't die."

"I won't," Aziz takes a deep breath, "so long as I can stay pure. No one will know."

"You can't just not be gay," Carlos denies. "It's not a choice."

Aziz faces him, "Don't you get it? I have no choice. You might have the luxury of being with whoever you want to be with, but abstinence is my only option."

He watches him cry, "Az."

He takes a deep breath, "You know, I really hate having you here." before shaking his head. "But I don't want you to leave."

Carlos evenly asks, "Do you want me to kiss you?"

"No," he rejects.

He takes a moment, "Can I hug you?" Aziz holds his breath but nods. Carlos wraps his arms around him, "It's going to be okay." and he releases a sob. "And I won't tell anyone."


	61. Don't You Wish You Were

**Don't You Wish You Were **

**(Friday Afternoon- Saturday Noon, July 26****th****\- 27****th****)**

When Mal enters the office, she walks over to the desk and sits, "I brought you a snack."

Ben eyes from the platter to her, "You don't need to worry about me."

Mal takes a raw meatball from it, "Why would I be worried?"

"Lonnie said you're worried about my eating," Ben informs. "You don't have to be." He watches her eat the hamburger. "In fact, I just ate yesterday."

"That was yesterday," Mal counters, before she offers him a piece of cheese. He shakes his head, and she eats it, "This is today."

"I just woke up, Mal," he reasons. "I have all night to eat."

"Will you?" she questions, and he's unable to respond. "Ben. You lost a lot of muscle."

"It will come back," he eyes down. "It always does, all that frickin' protein."

"But you want to be strong," Mal's face scrunches. "You wouldn't have that weights thing in your room if you didn't."

"I got that weights thing," Ben faces her, "because I wanted to be stronger than Father. But I'm not going to be." He looks down again, "And if I have to be as big as him to beat him… I don't think I want to be."

Mal frowns, "But you still need muscle. You might not be able to defend yourself from your father, but you're king. What if at tomorrow's event someone tries to attack you?"

His frown deepens, "Then my father will be there."

Mal takes a moment, "You can't rely on someone who hurts you to help you."

"It's not like he's going anywhere," Ben counters.

"You could turn him in," she suggests.

He shakes his head, "Turn him in for what?"

"Well," Mal half laughs, "I'm pretty sure child abuse is illegal here."

Ben awkwardly smiles, "Who said anything about child abuse?"

She narrows her eyes, "Come on, Ben. After everything we've seen—that you told us—you can't just turn back now."

He sighs, "You know, after everything… I don't even remember who I've told what to."

"Is that why you're not eating?" she inquires. "You think all the hurting will somehow stop if you hurt yourself?"

Ben meets her green eyes, "Is that why you cut? To trade one pain for another?"

Mal eyes over him, "I don't get it. If it's not about your parents or me or Chad, then why are you going this?"

"Not eating?" he unsurely replies. She stays silent, and he comments, "I told you. I just ate yesterday."

"Yeah?" her brows raise. "And what was that?"

Ben eyes down and scratches the back of his head, "When I was walking in the woods, there was this white wolf." He pauses, "It, uh… I ate with it."

"The wolf gave you food?" Mal's eyes widen.

"I know, it's weird," he acknowledges.

"Hell, Ben." She questions, "How sick are you?"

"Sick?" he repeats.

"You've never heard of the cat that tried feeding its sick owner a mouse?" Mal informs, "If a wolf fed you, it's because it saw its family dying."

"Mal," he sighs. "Yes, I'm sick. I've always been sick, but that doesn't have to do with me eating or not."

She whispers, "When I felt your arm yesterday, all I could feel were your clothes—just wrapped around this thin bone."

Ben rests his elbow on the desk, as he places his hand to his head, "You have to go."

"Why?" Mal cries. "Why can't we just talk about this?"

"Because," he widens his eyes at her. "You're making this sound way more bad than it is, and I don't want to hear it."

"Because you know it's true," she persists, and he eyes away. "I mean, unless you're like Evie and just think you're fat." Ben keeps quiet, and she slightly nods, "Do you? Do you think you're fat?"

"I know I'm not," he dismisses.

"That doesn't answer my question," she yells. "Tell me. Do you feel fat?"

Ben rubs his forehead, "Can we talk about this when you're feeling better?"

"I'm feeling just fine," she denies. "I just need to know."

"What do you want me to say?" Ben's pitch raises, "That I hate my body? That I hate my whole life?" before he points to the door. "Get out."

"Ben," she whispers.

"I said go," he roars.

She sees him cry, and she nods, "Okay."

After he hears the door close, Ben twirls the chair to the large, glass window. He stands and drops his jacket onto the chair, before sees his reflection cast over the tree's shade of the stormy afternoon. His face is the same as ever, and when he lifts his t-shirt, his torso is still that straight stick. He gathers the fat that hangs from his ribs, that excess skin that connects to his hips. No, he's not fat, but he's not that thin, not thin enough for Mal to react the way she did. No one else has said a thing. Sure, everyone's trying to get him to eat, but Mal's the only one that's talked about his weight. Clearly, this was just one of her hyperemotional states. She's afraid his odd eating is going to make him like Evie, that she's going to lose him. So, she's believed it's already happened. He lets his shirt fall. The problem is he's nothing like Evie. His every thought is invaded by food, and once he eats, he can never stop.

* * *

"How's it going?" Evie grins.

"Feels like I'm choking," Ben stresses, as he undoes the tie and loops it together again.

Evie pulls it from him, "Lose it."

Ben turns to her, "I can't just lose it, Evie." as he tiredly tries to snatch it back from her. "It's part of the uniform."

"The uniform," she giggles, before she wraps a transparent, blue fabric around his neck.

"Evie," he frowns. "What—"

"Hold on." She pulls the collar over it and makes a loose knot, "This is so you."

He sighs, "Evie. I can't just wear some sparkle scarf."

"Why not?" Evie counters, "The princesses do."

"But I'm not a princess," Ben's eyes widen.

"Don't you wish you were, though?" she tilts her head, and his jaw drops. He stares, as his expression slips. His heart pounds, and there's a knock on the door.

"Ben?" his mother calls. He pulls the scarf from his neck and bunches it behind his back, before the door opens and she half smiles, "Again, Ben?"

He shakes his head with a grin, "Again what?"

"You and Evie behind closed doors?" she insinuates.

"Oh. No way," Evie waves the idea off, as she steps towards her. "He's way too much of a girl for me." She puts out her hand, "My apple." and when Belle hands it to her, Evie takes a bite. Ben watches as she steps out of his mother's view, maneuvers a napkin from her pocket to her mouth, and then hides the food back where the napkin had originated.

"Well?" his mother prompts.

Ben lifts his hands, as he mouths, "I don't know." He notices the scarf in full view and then quickly hides it again.

Evie leaves the room, and his mother laughs, "Would you like to talk about it?"

"No, I don't want to talk about how Evie stole my tie and gave me a scarf," he spouts.

She walks up to him, "Here. Let me have it."

Ben keeps it close, "No."

"Honey," she sighs.

"I want to give it back," he insists.

"She just left." His mother reasons, "If you hand it to me, it will only take a moment."

"No." Ben nods, "I need a talk with her, and I can do it when I do that."

She nods in return, "Well, if you insist." Ben doesn't speak, and she starts out of the room. "Finish getting ready. We'll be leaving soon."

After his mother shuts the door, Ben walks over to his dresser and murmurs, "Evie. You're going to get me in so much trouble." He takes apart a pair of tube socks, stuffs the scarf inside one, and then folds it over with the other. He places it in the corner of the drawer, next to the unicorn hair clip, before he slams it shut. He takes a new tie from the hanging strip, before he strides back over to the mirror with the smile, "Time to strangle myself again."

* * *

When Ben makes it down the staircase, Mal comments, "You're not stressed at all."

"I don't want to talk about it," Ben bypasses, before he walks past everyone and opens the double doors. A bright light invades his vision, and he turns his head down for a moment. He glimpses his parents pass him in his oversaturated view, and when he follows them, he feels himself step on the corner of the stairs; however, when he starts to fall, Mal pulls him back.

She worries, "Ben. Are you okay?"

He stares down, "Mal. I can't see. It's too bright."

"Oh," she realizes.

"It's okay," Evie reassures from his other side. "We can take care of you."

Mal takes his arm, "Let's go." but his footing is off. "Wait."

"Hold his waist," Evie suggests.

"What?" Ben exasperates.

"Good idea," Mal agrees, before she wraps an arm around him and steadily guides him down the stairs.

* * *

\- **Posted**: 12/14/2019

\- For anyone who worries about whether the story will be updated, all of my Descendants fanfics are part of the same universe. So, if I update one of them, you can be almost guaranteed that I will update the others. I've also been trying to post on Mondays, because that was when it was most convenient for me to visit the protein shake place and use their internet; however, last Monday I couldn't post due to weather. I have my own internet now, so that shouldn't be a problem now. And you'll be happy to know that I have a large update for you tonight, because it's been so long. If you follow all three stories, you will have a total of eight chapters to read. I hope you enjoy.

\- **Megan** I can promise you that for the rest of this fanfiction (the two or so remaining weeks of the summer) that no characters will die; however, I have plans that extend several fanfics from now, and loss is a part of life. If a character does die, it won't be meaningless. It either just means that it would have necessary impact on the other characters and/or plot or that it would be irresponsible for me to depict such unhealthy life situations without any consequences. If someone is using drugs, if someone has a medical condition, or if someone is being abused, there is always a chance of death, and I don't want to be one of those people who show it will work itself out and that help isn't needed. Not all of the characters in these situations will die, but eventually it becomes my responsibility as someone who chooses to bring light to these situations to acknowledge the real-life dangers of these struggles. If everyone in this story gets a happy ending, the people who see these things in their life will think everything is fine. It's just as important to show the results of not getting help just as much as it is to show the life someone can have if they do get help. Death is inevitable. What matters is the journey the characters take and the impact they have on others, the impact they have on you. That's my ultimate goal, is to give people things they can relate to, so they know they're not alone. I didn't start writing fanfiction because I saw a couple I wanted to be together. I started writing it, so I could put my problems onto others and make them a thousand times worse. That may sound selfish, but these characters' struggles allows me to think about why it is I do the things I do and why others react the way they do. Not all of the problems in my writing is something I deal with, but I want it to be able to help the people who do.

\- **Darthamster12** If you're rereading the stories, then maybe you can remind me which secrets Ben has told to who? I've completely lost track, and I'm a slow reader. So, it would take me months to reread what I've written. This has been such a long series already. If I do manage to translate this to a novel series, I'm seriously going to have to condense it some. If any other binge readers would like to remind me of any events that they think I might have forgotten, then feel free to do so. I hate having inconsistencies. I already have to deal with Chad graduating on time, despite going to Auradon Prep early. I think I'll excuse it as a third year of middle school, he wasn't allowed to take high school classes because of his age of something stupid like that. I mean, it happens. I had about four years of preschool because of my age and four years of middle school since the grades were changed from 5th and 6th grade to 7th and 8th. I think it threw me off, because right now it looks like Ben and Chad are two years apart in age; however, I plan on having Chad's birthday in November, so they're technically only a year and a few months apart. Let's just have Chad complain about that, when Ben mentions how Charming thinks Chad's too young for him. "As an adult, ten years may not matter. But in school, even one year can be a lot." That sounds good. I'll have Charming say that when Ben retells Chad's complaint.

\- Thank you all for your continued support. It means a lot.


	62. Blinding Light

**Blinding Light **

**(Saturday Afternoon, July 27****th****)**

When they reach the table Carlos, Aziz, and Sultan Aladdin sit, Mal pulls out a chair, and Ben feels his way to take his seat. "Noon a little too early for you?" Aziz smiles.

Ben squints, "It's less funny, when you know that I went to sleep when you woke up."

"Good," he counters. "You got eight hours in, then."

Ben frowns, "More like five. I sleeped at seven."

"Slept," Carlos corrects.

"Tais-toi."

"Make me," Carlos counters in French.

Ben sighs, before he scratches his forehead and reaches for the water; however, when he finds the glass, it tips. Water floods the table, but his mother stops it with a cloth napkin. She refills the glass, takes his hand, and guides it to the water, "Here."

After he takes a drink, Aziz asks, "Is there something wrong with your eyes?"

Ben narrows his eyes at him, "Sorry. I couldn't see the glass of water on the white table with all the white light pouring down from the sun."

"Forgive him," Adam dismisses. "He hasn't eaten yet."

"This seems kind of serious," Aladdin concerns. "If he can't see—"

"Here," Charming hands Ben a pair of sunglasses, before he sternly eyes Adam. He warns in French, "If you break these ones, I'm calling Emergency Services."

"Is that really necessary?" Belle intrudes.

Charming's eyes widen at her, "You're purposely disabling your child and leaving them prone to injury. So, yes, it's very necessary."

After he leaves, Ben puts on his sunglasses, wets his lips, and faces Aladdin and Aziz, "I have this little thing, where I don't need a lot of light to see. So, if there's a lot of light, I kind of can't, really."

"You couldn't just bring your own sunglasses?" Aziz asks.

Ben takes a moment, "I was in a, um, hurry."

"Are you sure you can do a speech," Mal worries. "It's not like your English is great."

"You're doing a lot better," Aladdin reassures.

Ben smiles his thanks, before he turns back to Mal, "I don't need to know English to speak it. I have the whole thing…" His eyes shift, "I got it." before he gets an odd feeling and looks over at Charming's table. He notices Chad's upset expression, before he races from the table. Ben stands to go after him, but then he feels a hand on his shoulder. He turns and sees Charming, "What's going on?"

He takes a moment, "Chad's just worried about how long you will be here with us." Ben nods, and he questions, "May I speak with you?"

"Of course," Ben nods, before he glances back at the table, he and Charming walk to a secluded area, and they face each other.

"I need you to know," Charming starts, "that our last conversation, I was less upset with you and more with your parents. If they took care of you as they should and set a good example, then things like what happened could be avoided." Ben nods in understanding. "That being said, I'd like you to be honest with me about your feelings for Chad."

He unsurely smiles, "I don't have feelings for Chad."

"Look." He sympathizes, "I understand that it must be hard admitting to having thoughts about illegal behavior, but I think you know you can trust me."

Ben bites his lip, "I guess I do have a hard time imagining my life without him in it, and I always had this stupid idea that we could somehow rule the country together." He solemnly laughs, "Not that any of this will matter when I'm dead."

"Even if you only live three more years," Charming counters, "it will." Ben glances down, and he informs, "If you do take the sodomy law to the council, you can count on my vote to repeal it."

Ben's mouth gapes, "Chad didn't think you would."

"I'll say you probably need to work on recognizing consent and accepting no as an answer," he acknowledges, "but you've done that with girls too. If you become fond of a guy who's okay with the attention, I don't want you—or anyone—to have to get in trouble for that."

Ben partly smiles, "That means a lot."

"You said you knew three people in the same position?" he inquires.

"Uh, yeah," Ben uneasily starts, before he scratches the back of his head.

"I just want to know," Charming requestions, "is it just the kids from the Isle or did someone else open up to you?"

"It's not just Mal and them." Ben hesitates, "It's another royal, but I can't say who."

"But if it's another royal, then you could get another vote."

"It won't make a difference," he dismisses. "We might get Eric's and Athena's vote, because they have a family member who had a forbidden relationship; however, I don't see Phillip or Aladdin repealing it, just because it would go against their strong religious beliefs. Rapunzel is a lawyer, so I'm sure she will point out why the law was necessary in the first place. Florian's family might be just open-minded enough to repeal it, but I don't see a community of people who've just lived through a genocide encouraging homosexuality."

"But it's not really encouraging it, is it," Charming challenges, "if people are enacting in the behavior regardless?"

"You know the dwarves make a community vote before making any big decisions," Ben reminds him, "and if we don't warn them, their answer will to be not to do anything."

"You still have half the vote." He opinionates, "If you make a good speech beforehand, they'll be on your side."

"They're not going to change their minds just because they think I'm homosexually inclined or whatever," Ben cringes.

"They didn't report you when you and Chad kissed at your birthday party."

"That was different," he defends. "It—" He sighs, "They thought it was staged."

Charming quiets, "Ben. I don't want anything bad to happen to you."

His frown deepens, "I have to tell you… I hope you don't mind, but last time I was hospitalized, I changed my emergency contact to you."

"You know I'll always make time for you," he reassures, "but what about your parents?"

"My mother is still my second contact." Ben frowns, "I just didn't want them to call my father first." before he starts to shake. "When my father is contacted, no one is allowed to even know I'm there." His voice crackles, "And I don't want to die alone."

"It's okay." Charming places a hand on his shoulder, "That won't…" before his brows furrow and he lets out a breath. Ben feels his shoulder get pitched and steps back. "Ben."

"Not today. Okay?" he negotiates.

"When did this start again?" he concerns.

Ben shakes his head, "Sometime between when I broke up with Mal, Chad broke up with me, and I got into that fight with father, probably."

"It's okay," he frowns. "We'll get through this."

"Get through this?" Ben huffs. "I don't even know who I am. I'm just some doll—or action figure—that my parents get to dress up to play the part. And the people who actually treat me like a person and see a part of who I really am, they want nothing to do with me."

"I know it might seem that way, but it isn't true," Charming counters. "And as far as figuring yourself out, there's a lot of adults who still haven't done that. You're not alone."

Ben eyes down, "I feel alone."

"You have me," he disproves. "You can tell me anything, and I will help you."

"Not anything."

"Anything," Charming firmly repeats, before he releases a breath. "Ben. You've been like a second son to me. I don't care how crazy you think something is. You can tell me." Ben shifts his stance, and he assumes, "Does the informalness make you uncomfortable?"

"No," he uneasily answers. "You've always been there for me. It's nice."

Charming takes a moment, "It's the word, isn't it?"

"Which word?"

"When people talk about their son," Charming explains, "they talk about the sports they play or which field of science they're studying, but those aren't things that have interested you very much."

"I liked playing tourney," Ben denies. "I just didn't like the environment."

"Too masculine?"

Ben awkwardly smiles, "They were accusing me of juicing because of how strong I am." He folds his arms, and glances down as he wets his lips, "Well."

"When can we talk about this?" Charming sadly expresses.

"There's nothing to talk about," he rejects.

"I know why you're not eating," he seriously remarks.

Ben's mouth gapes, as his heart races, "Really? Because, I don't."

"I think you do," Charming evenly comments.

"I think you need to check on your real son," Ben's eyes widen. "You know, the one probably crying in the bathroom over his terminally ill best friend."

He nods, "You're clearly not ready to talk about this again."

"Because there's no reason to," Ben sternly says. "We've already had this conversation. I'm done with it."

Charming steps back, but after he leaves, Ben turns to see Doug walking up to him. He takes a deep breath, and when he reaches him, Ben's brows raise, "I don't have the time for this right now."

When he brushes by, Doug follows him, "We need to talk."

Ben strains a grin, "Everyone just wants to talk. It's lovely."

"I saw your interview." Ben halts, turns back to him, and Doug pushes his glasses up, "Whatever made things awkward for you, I don't want it to be, so we need to talk."

Ben lets out a breath and rubs his forehead, "Do you have a question?"

"Chad thought the blood meant something."

"I wasn't thinking about that with you." Ben slowly states, "If you remember, I blacked out one of those times. It wasn't about…" He eyes up, "Closeness."

"Then why do you feel awkward?" he asks.

"Because," Ben's eyes widen, before he looks away.

"Because why?" he quietly questions.

"You said you would be there whenever I need you," he stresses.

"And I will be, because I know you would never ask for help."

"What if I don't need help?" He worries, "Blood is all I think about. What if I say I need it, just because I want it? I don't want to hurt you for no reason."

"Ben," Doug frowns, "if it's all you're thinking about, there probably is a reason."

"And what's that?" Ben challenges.

He pauses, "How's your eating?"

Ben straightens, "As fine as ever."

Doug nods, "That's what I thought."

He falters, "What does that mean?"

"I don't plan on changing roommates." Doug smiles, "So, your eating issues, your soda addiction, and everything else, I have all year to get you to let me help you with it."

"Last time I checked," Ben defends, "it's normal to snack while studying, and soda tends to be a drink with snacks." He frowns at him, "These things aren't problems."

"I'm just saying I'll be there the next time you break down and admit it is." Ben doesn't speak, and Doug continues, "I should find Evie, see if she still wants people to think we're dating and all that."

"Yeah. Um." Ben questions, "What is up with you two?"

He readjusts his glasses, "Well, last year guys thought if they harassed her—cornered her, you know—then she'd suddenly like them."

"So, you're making them think she isn't single," Ben concludes.

"I'm making them think she isn't interested in girls anymore," Doug corrects, "so that they don't see her as some prize to win." Ben nods, and he comments, "See you later."


	63. Clutz

**Clutz **

**(Saturday Afternoon, July 27****th****)**

"Good Afternoon, Auradon." Ben eyes over the cameras at the front of the crowd, before he removes his sunglasses. "I'd like to thank everyone who could make it here today. As you may know, Unification Week marks when the kingdoms of this country officially signed themselves under one authority." He stares into the crowd, "My parents saw the war that plagued this land, but with my mother's diplomacy and my father's resolute, they were able to encourage peace. My parents told the kingdoms that they are either part of the problem or part of the solution, that they would help them negotiate peace or use their own war tactics against them." Ben blinks, as a sudden heat washes over him, and the sunglasses slip from his fingers. "Thanks to the royal families' willingness to accept change, we have the country we have today." The white light widens radius, and his frown deepens. "The, uh…" He takes a moment, "The Unification Proclamation states that any kingdom's act against another is considered an act of terror. The leader of the kingdom is obligated to keep peace with the other kingdoms, and if they engage in war tactics against another kingdom, they forfeit right to their kingdom's throne." Ben becomes unsteady, and he grips the microphone stand; however, it tilts, and as it falls, he falls.

Ben's eyes close, before he feels his back and legs drop against a set of arms. A shadow is cast over him, and he's met with Chad's sky-blue eyes. "Ben?" He moves, his feet touch the ground, and he finds the edge of the stage. He feels his way back onto the platform, before he walks over to the black pole and sets the microphone upright. He awkwardly smiles, "Sorry about that. As I was saying, this week we shall celebrate everything good that we've built, and I hope you enjoy the festivities that remind us of what hope a unified future may bring."

When he stops speaking, a woman shouts, "King Ben. When do you expect to see results on your homeless apartment project?"

He finds the black-haired reporter in the front, "We're still working on it, but my goal is to start building next summer."

"How long will the construction take?"

"Construction?" he questions.

"How long 'til it's built?" she rewords.

"That's still to be seen," he answers.

"What's your relationship with Prince Chad?" another voice inquires.

Ben falters, "I don't know. Why don't you ask him?" He sees a microphone move towards Chad, and Ben shouts over the questions, "He's under sixteen. You have to make an interview." The voices quiet, and Ben asks, "Any more questions?"

"Why did you fall off the stage?" a man sounds. "Are you not feeling well?"

Ben can't locate the voice through the thick, white light, so he stares out at the crowd, "I'm just tired. I lost my footing, but I can tell you I feel well."

"King Ben. Is there something wrong with your eyes?"

It's a different voice, but where's it coming from? He slowly shakes his head, "Uh, no. There's nothing wrong with my eyes."

"Then why aren't you looking at us?" the voice counters.

Ben excuses, "It's a way of speaking to crowds." before he picks up the sunglasses from the wooden stage, puts them on, and looks over the crowd. "Thank you, and I wish you all a good rest of your day."

When Ben marches offstage, the reporters surround him; however, Charming keeps them away, as Chad, William, and Brendan guide him away. "Are you sure you're okay?" Chad concerns. "I mean, you fell off stage."

"He's fine," Brendan answers for him. "He's always been a clutz. Remember back in middle school when he tripped over his own feet?"

"What?" Ben disbelieves.

"In gym class," he smiles. "Remember? We were playing kickball."

Ben recalls how he just stood there, watching as the light slowly grew brighter. The bright white light had suddenly turned to black, and he'd fallen to the ground. His eyes had opened, and everyone was staring at him. He rose to his feet and panicked, yelling that he was fine, that he was okay. Is this what everyone thought happened, that he'd just tripped over his own foot? Is that why they never sent him to the nurse? Ben glares at him, "I didn't trip. I fainted."

Brendan stifles a laugh, "Really?"

"Hey," William inserts. "This isn't funny."

"No. I know," he snickers, before he takes a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

"Is that what happened on stage?" Chad comments. "You fainted?" Ben fails to answer, and he places a hand to his forehead.

Ben swats it away, "Chad. There's people here."

"You don't feel sick." He shakes his head, "Damn rexi probably just isn't eating."

Ben darts his eyes from the guys to Chad, "I'm not anorexic."

"Then you won't mind if I get you a sandwich," Chad offers.

"I'm not eating a salad sandwich," Ben revolts.

"There's cheese and turkey ones too."

"And what's a piece of cheese between two thin slices of meat supposed to solve?" he irritably responds.

"You're just trying to get out of eating," Chad accuses.

"No, I'm not," Ben nearly yells. "I'm just tired of eating shit that doesn't help."

After a minute of quiet, William informs, "He's a carnivore. If you really want to help him, all you have to do is open a vein."

"Ben might like meat," Chad accepts, "but that doesn't make him a carnivore."

"You said he likes the way you smell," he points out. "How would he know what your scent smelled like, if he wasn't?"

When Chad looks at him, Ben defends, "So, I have a good nose. That doesn't have to mean anything."

"I know you're a carnivore," William enforces, "because I'm one too, and I know the signs." Ben's expression slips, and he lists, "You have heightened senses, you're nocturnal, you're strong and fast, and you've admitted to liking blood on camera."

"I went fifteen years without blood," Ben grits his teeth. "How does that make me a frickin' carnivore?"

"It doesn't," Chad whispers. "It makes your parents neglectfully abusive."

Ben's eyes widen at him, "You don't actually believe this?"

"This whole time," he hurtfully replies, "you were just trying to eat me?"

"It wasn't like that," Ben denies. "I li—" Chad solemnly stares at him, and Ben wets his lips, "I liked having you close to me."

"But you don't love me," he insecurely says. "You liked having me close, because you liked the way I smelled. And you wanted me." Ben eyes down, and Chad continues, "See? You can't even deny it. I bet if you drank me dry, it still wouldn't matter to you."

"Of course, it would matter," Ben growls, before he shakily breathes. "I can't live without you, Chad."

"But you think I can?" Chad asserts. "You don't want to wait to die of fever, so you're starving yourself to death instead."

"Chad," he tries to reason.

"No," he persists. "I have you all figured out. You're controlling ass needs to be in control, so you can't just let Death be in control. You can't stand not knowing if you'll die in seven weeks, seven months, or seven years. No. You will die when you want to, exactly at the time you say you will." Chad gulps, "And it's just cowardly, Ben. If you want to die so badly, then why is it taking you so long. Huh? Why can't you just do it your damn self?"

Ben's frown deepens, "I already tried doing it my damn self." and with that Chad settles, eyes over him, and shakes his head before leaving.

"He didn't mean that," Brendan comments.

"No. He's right." Ben faces them, "I've been waiting to die, and it's not fair to ask him to watch me do that." He shakes his head, "No. If he can't be around me, I understand."

"Seriously, though," William inputs, "don't die."

Ben nods, "Okay." before he faces him. "So, where do you get your blood from?"

"My father was helping me when he needed to," he frowns, "but I'm looking for a more permanent solution now."

His eyes widen, "You had a nerve to out me to my—to Chad—when you don't even have your own donor?"

"I thought he could help you better, if—"

"Get out of here," he interrupts.

"Ben."

"No," he perseveres. "Chad was mine, and you ruined it."

"You two were already separated," Brendan reminds him.

"Chad always comes back to me," Ben eyes from him to William. "But if I didn't give him a reason not to before, he certainly has one now."

William whispers, "I'm sorry."

"Well, you should be. What if I outed you? How would you like it?"

He agrees, "I wouldn't."

"Until further notice," Ben tears up, "I don't want to see or speak to you. Am I clear?"

William bows, "Yes, Your Highness." before he walks away. Ben watches him make his way to his parents, likely looking for a ride home.

"There you are."

Ben hears Audrey's voice and turns to her, "Hey." and he watches as she eyes over him. "What is it?"

"You don't look terminally ill," she evenly expresses.

"Chad told you," he assumes.

"I'm just going to go," Brendan excuses himself.

Audrey shakes her head, "We dated for a year, Ben. You couldn't tell me?"

He lifts a shoulder, "I couldn't talk about it. I wasn't even allowed to."

"But me?" she questions again. "We made plans, Ben. The college we would attend, whether we would live in my kingdom or yours, and how long we should wait until marriage."

"I know," Ben frowns. "I shouldn't have been dating."

"That's not what I'm saying." Audrey explains, "I'm saying that you should have told me. Okay? I had the right to decide for myself whether living my life with you for five or ten years would be worth the loss I would feel if you passed."

"When I pass," Ben corrects, and her frown deepens. "All I have to do is get the flu, Audrs, and I've just barely beat that enough times the way it is."

"How long would you guess you have?"

He takes a moment, "I'm surprised I've lived this long."

She shakes her head, "You're terrible, you know that?" as she starts to cry. "I had this whole plan to just yell at you for summing up what you did to Chad as companionship and how much of a mess you've left him, but now…"

When she sobs, Ben hugs her, "It's okay."

* * *

\- I don't know if this is the first time I've used Ben's nickname for Audrey, but believe me, it's a lot easier to say in your head than it is aloud. Try pronouncing Aud-Res as one syllable, and that's sort of how I think it sounds.


	64. Fantasy

**Fantasy **

**(Saturday Evening, July 27****th****)**

When Ben switches out of his jacket and tie to his t-shirt and button up, he hears a knock and goes to open the door. He unsurely looks at Evie before trying to smile at Mal, "May I help you with something?"

"Evie needs to use your scale," Mal asserts.

Ben half laughs, "Are you sure that's a good idea?"

"It's a very good idea," Mal answers, and Ben steps aside.

"Alright, then."

After they enter his room, Evie goes towards the bathroom, and Mal faces him, "Thank you. She thought she gained ten pounds this week, and I need her to eat at least something."

"Yeah." Ben hesitates, "Of course."

Mal looks him over, "Is something wrong?"

"No." Ben glances from the bathroom to her, "It's just, Evie said something earlier, and I'm not sure how I feel about it."

Mal stays still, "What did she say?"

"She made a comment on, uh." He wets his lips, "What's the word?" before he squints. "She talked about some of the more girl-like things I do."

"Your feminine side," Mal understands.

"I'm just not really sure where she got it from," he continues.

She shakes her head, "Don't worry about it. Evie hasn't been eating—more than usual—and she always says weird stuff like that when she starves herself."

"But where did she get it from?" Ben stresses. "Do I just have that much of a girly sense coming off of me."

"No, Ben," Mal sighs. "You're just as much of a guy as Jay or Doug." She moves his bangs from his face, "You're just sensitive, but you know what? That takes a hell of a lot of courage. And that makes you an even better man than any guy who'd hide their feelings with fights, sex, or drugs."

"Really?" Ben unsurely asks.

"Of course," Mal sadly answers, before she sees Evie exit the bathroom. She raises her eyebrows, "The hall. Now."

After Evie passes Ben and follows Mal out of the room, she notices, "You're stressed."

"Not as stressed as Ben," Mal takes a deep breath. "Did you really question his masculinity?"

Evie grins, "What masculinity?"

"The masculinity that makes him a guy," Mal defends. "You can't just tell a guy he acts like a girl."

"He likes flowers," she points out.

"It's a family thing." Mal glances down the hall, "And it's not like I like flowers."

"He gave away his foosball table."

"He wasn't using it." Mal huffs, "And he's been playing tourney for years."

"Ben hates group activities." She reminds her, "And he quit."

"I thought girls were supposed to be social," Mal refutes.

"I gave him a barrette and a scarf, and he didn't give them back," Evie discloses.

Mal's expression falls, and she takes a minute, "If Ben wants to express his gender femininely, he has every right to do that. You can't just say a guy's not a guy, just because they wear hair clips. Feminine guys exist, and here nail polish is considered makeup. Does that make every guy on the Isle who wore nail polish or eye liner a girl?"

"No," Evie giggles.

"Then what?" Mal's voice raises.

"When I talk to Ben," Evie thinks, "it's like… it's like I'm talking to a girl. You know?"

"No, Eves," she sternly replies. "I don't know."

"He feels like more of a girl than you," Evie informs.

"Ben's not a girl," she furiously whispers.

She shakes her head, "Why would it matter?" and Mal's eyes dart down and up. "It's Ben, Mal. Would him feeling like a girl really make you care about him any less?"

"I'm tired of this," Mal warns. "I want you to eat and get your head on straight."

"Straight or straight?" Evie takes offense.

"If I wanted a girl, I could just have you." Evie's expression falters, and Mal starts to cry, "I don't need another girl." She takes a deep breath, "I finally found a guy who makes me feel comfortable in my own skin, a guy who lets me be in control, who asks permission to kiss me, who is honest about his thoughts and tries his best not to hurt me—even at his expense."

"A guy who doesn't like sex," Evie frowns, and Mal wipes the tears from her face. "Believe me, if I have to share you with a guy, I'd like it to be Ben, but…" She sighs, "Maybe the reason why Ben seems like such a great guy is because he's such a girl."

"So, what?" Mal shakily laughs, "Guys can't be good?"

"They can be good," Evie evenly answers. "And they can be sweet, but even with Doug it feels like I'm talking to a guy." She shakes her head, "It's not like that with Ben." before she glances away. "With Ben, it's more like I'm talking with Audrey."

"No," Mal shakes her head hard.

"M," she tries to reason.

Her eyes widen, "I'm not going to believe it, okay? Not until Ben says it."

Evie takes a moment, "He's not going to say anything."

"I don't care," she reaffirms. "You also said he was going to get arrested for cannibalism. The last time you fasted, you said the gods would bow to me. How am I supposed to think this is anything more than what it really is?"

She stares, "And what's that?"

"You're sick." She quiets, "And I don't know how to make you better."

Evie slowly shakes her head, "Isn't that the point? You can't make me better. I don't need to be fixed. My life is meaningless."

Mal sadly smiles, "E. You're not meaningless."

"I'm messing up everyone's life by being here," she counters.

"How?" she disbelieves.

"You should be with Ben, and Ben should be allowed to be Ben."

"And if Ben really was," Mal nods, "girly, then how would he be told it's okay without you insisting he's that way?"

"Chad would know," Evie insists. "And they would be able to rule the country together, as you help Ben give the Isle children a better chance here."

"Evie." Mal breathes, "That's a fantasy."

"It's how life could be if I wasn't here," she sternly remarks. "Mal. My mother prolonged her pregnancy. I should be older." She points behind her, "I should be dead somewhere on the Isle. I wasn't even supposed to be a part of your life. I'm like a weed that just crept up and took over." She tears up, "And I'm ruining everything. I can feel it."

Mal kisses her, holds her arms, and looks into her dark eyes, "I would not be able to live my hell of a life if you weren't in it." Evie sniffles, and she wipes the tears form her face, "I need you, Eves. Don't think I don't." Evie shuts her eyes hard as she nods, and Mal takes a relaxing breath. "Can you please eat something for me?"

She thinks, "I'll make some lemon pudding if you eat it with me."

Mal's eyes shut, "Thank you."

* * *

In the bedroom, Ben unbuttons his long sleeve and lifts his t-shirt. You would think with all the muscle Mal claims he's lost that his mid-center would be smaller, but it's not. What he'd give to be more than a stick, some large block of construction board. He removes his shirt and feels the top of his chest. His fingers run along the top two bumps and then the third on his side, before his reaches the masses surrounding his waist. He grips them. In the mirror he sees how the loose skin extends from his hip to his chest like frog toes or bat wings. It doesn't make sense. It shouldn't be there. Mal had been right. His core muscles shank; however, the skin didn't retract with it, and there's still a good few inches of flab in the way. If only he could get the skin to stick in closer, as the muscles did.

Ben takes a deep breath and strides over to his desk, before he returns to the large bathroom mirror. He pulls apart the duct tape, places the black strap at his midsection, and starts tightly taping around his waist. He rips the endpiece off and sticks it to itself, before he examines his new figure in the mirror; however, when he intakes a breath, it's too shallow. He's restricted his airway. He can't breathe. Ben opens each drawer of the counters, but nothing's to be found. He races back over to his desk, finds the scissors in the first drawer, and hurries to cut himself free. He gasps for air, and he sits in his chair. He should have known that would happen, but he needed something to work. If he has to feel that fat one more time, he's going to cut it off.

Ben folds his arms, but when his hands slide down to that excess skin, he stands from the chair and heads for bed. If he's asleep it doesn't exist, and by the time he wakes up the anxiety will have faded. It won't matter. He just has to get through the night, and then his mind will become preoccupied by things that actually matter. A king obsessing over his looks is hardly professional. Even Chad doesn't fix his hair as much as Ben's been pinching his sides. He pulls the sheets over his back, as he hugs the pillow, but then there's a knock.

"Ben?" The door opens, and his mother partly smiles, "I brought you dinner."

"Mother," Ben stresses. "I'm tired."

"You haven't eaten at all today."

"Yeah," Ben's voice raises. "Because it was day. I had to wake up before noon. Can't you just let me sleep until midnight?"

"I want you to eat something first," she says, before she walks over to his bed.

"I can't eat right now," Ben excuses.

She sets the small plate of cheese and salami on the bedside table, "I'd really like it if you just had a bite."

"Unless you're offering," he snaps, "I'm not interested."

She nods once, "Is that what it would take? Is if I offered?"

Ben sighs, "I just said that, so you'd leave me alone."

She sits on the bed, "Ben. I know you desire me."

He cringes, "Don't say it like that."

"You want my blood," she rewords, and he shuts his eyes. "It's nothing to be ashamed of." He keeps quiet, and she asks, "How is it again, you would describe my scent?"

He takes a moment, "Cantaloupe. The orange kind." before he pauses. "The way it should, anyway. The fruit doesn't taste as good as I always think it should… That's part of why I never have it. It's pointless."

"Maybe the fruit is pointless," she accepts, but eating isn't. If all you can stand right now is blood, I'd rather you have that than nothing."

"It's not that I can't have anything," Ben denies. "I just… I don't know why."

She moves her wrist towards him, "Take it. Please."

"I can't bite on command," Ben frustrates.

"Sure, you can," his mother counters. "You just open your mouth and then close it again. Hard." She takes a second, "Pretend it's an apple."

Ben's eyes widen, "Do you know how hard it is to eat a frickin' apple? After I bite it, I have to chew it with my front teeth five more times, and the skin is impenetrable no matter what I do." He takes a deep breath, "The amount of energy I get from an apple probably gets used just from trying to eat it."

Belle nods, "Perhaps, but if you can bite an apple, you can bite my wrist."

Ben falters, mouth cracked open as he glances down, "I can't."

"You can try," she encourages.

"Mother." Ben meets her sad brown eyes, "I can't do this with you."

"Why ever not?"

"Because, it would mean something," Ben stresses, before he looks down and wets his lips. "I could mean something."

She takes a long minute, and she notices a couple tears fall from his eyes, "So long as you eat, I don't care."

He takes a settling breath, "I would."

She strengthens her voice, "I want to help."

He refuses, "I don't want it."

She contemplates, "Sit up."

"What?" Ben's frown deepens. "Why?"

"I want to see you," she insists.

"I really just want to sleep," Ben excuses.

"You can do that after I see you." He doesn't move, and she persists, "Now, please."

Ben shakes his head, as he sits up and lets the sheet fall to his legs. He sees her cover her mouth, as she gasps. "Mother?"

She reaches towards his chest but pulls back before touching it, "My God."

They're not supposed to mention God outside of intellectual conversation. His mother didn't want him to experience the same unsupported fears she still struggles with. The fact of the matter is Hell was borrowed from the Pagans' belief in Hades—the underworld. It's a lot like a Christmas tree that way. As they say, 'old habits die hard'. He notices her start to cry, "Mother? What's wrong?"

She shakes her head, "Your ribs. I can see them."

Ben glances down, "It's only the top ones."

"Only?" she exasperates. "Honey… There are dips in between. There's no cushion. If you fall, you could hurt yourself."

He unsurely smiles, "You make it sound like I'm a skeleton."

"That's exactly what I'm saying," she confirms. "Ben. You need to eat something."

"No." Ben argues, "If I was really a skeleton, I'd look like Evie. Every bone in her ribcage shows. Mine doesn't do that."

She stares at him in disbelief, "You're comparing yourself to Evie?"

"If I was really too skinny, I'd look like her," he concludes, before he watches his mother stand from the bed and wipe her tears.

"Where are you going?" he sighs.

"I can't right now," she proclaims.

Ben watches her head for the door, "You expect me to sleep after this?" but she continues out the door without a word. He drops back onto the mattress and stares at the ceiling. What had he done wrong? He feels his ribcage under the sheet. There's a smooth surface of skin across a good portion of his chest, but that same portion is connected to that extra skin covering his waist. Does he just have so much skin that he can't tell how much fat or muscle he's lost? It's possible with the amount of times he's gained and then lost five or ten pounds in a single week. He places a hand to his head. He feels like he's losing his mind. He has a fever, so, of course, he is.


	65. Can I Die

**Can I Die **

**(Sunday Afternoon, July 28****th****)**

"I've been meaning to ask," Noah questions, "how's Princess Audrey?"

"Fine," Ben says, as he pulls the shelf product forward. "Why?"

He checks the expiration date on the beef jerky, "I just thought it would be really hard for her, after what happened on the Enchanted Forest case."

"The place does mean a lot to her," Ben recalls. "It must have been sad to see all those trees cut down."

"I think it would have been even more sad for her to see her family die," Noah informs.

Ben turns to him, mouth agape, "Excuse me?"

"When Audrey worked on the Enchanted Forest case, she saw the house her mother lived in," he explains. "There were girls there who looked just like her, and they were dead." Ben eyes down in thought, and he asks, "Did she not tell you?"

Ben wets his lips, "We weren't on good terms at the time."

"It would be hard for me too," Noah acknowledges. "The girl from the forest who worked for me, she was a dryad. Their family's lives were tied to one of the trees there."

Ben takes a moment, "Are you saying that the girl's family was the one in Audrey's mother's cottage?" He nods, and he questions, "And you think the dryad's family is part of Audrey's family?"

"Adding a hundred years and a human marriage," he verifies. "The princess is lucky she's even still alive. The dryads died when the tree died, because that tree was their mother. If Audrey came right from the tree like the others, she wouldn't have lived either."

"But someone on her mother's side would be from the tree, then?" Ben thinks.

"Maybe her grandmother's mother, someone who isn't alive anymore," he speculates. "We weren't told anyone in her family died when the tree died, so it wouldn't be any of them."

Ben shakes his head, "Audrey started an anti-hybrid petition last school year. She must hate knowing she's not the perfect daughter of God she thought she was. And an atheist is the last person she would tell about it."

"So, that's true, then?" Noah inquires.

Ben's frown deepens, as he moves to the next section of shelves, "A lot of things are true about me."

"Ben!"

He hears his father's yell and whispers, "Damn it." He told everyone not to tell his father where he works, but no doubt someone has taken a photo at some point and posted it.

His father spots him, "Ben."

"Don't say anything," Ben hurries, as he widens his eyes at Noah.

"What?" he panics in English. Ben glances back at his father, and he feels Noah grab his arm. "Ben." He's forgotten Noah isn't fluent in French, after how long he's been able to keep up with him.

Ben turns back and slowly states in English, "Don't do anything." before he sees his father come closer and moves towards the backroom.

His father grows nearer, and Ben backs into the other room. "Do you know how upset you've made your mother over not eating?"

Ben guesses, "Probably a lot."

His father grits his teeth and lifts a pointed hand, "Don't you dare get smart with me." Ben backs up more, and his father enters the room. "Well? What do you have to say for yourself?" Ben opens his mouth, but nothing comes out. "Nothing?" His father steps forward, and Ben rounds the table; however, his father follows him. "What do you want? Money? Is this some ploy to get the money from that frozen account?"

Ben realizes, "You think I'm doing this on purpose."

"She thinks that's what it is, you know," he takes another step, and Ben finds himself against the wall. "She thinks I've pulled a rug out from under you, that this is about stress. If I'd let you keep that money, you'd get better." Ben observes his expression, as he squints, "You know what I think? I think you know exactly what you're doing. If you don't eat, then I risk losing my heir. To keep this family's status, I would have to give you anything you wanted." Ben continues to stare at him. "So, tell me what you want to stop this insolence." Ben notices Noah by the doorway and shakes his head. Noah cannot say or do anything. He must not. There's a hard blow to his stomach, and tears invade his eyes as all the air leaves his lungs. Ben drops to the ground, and his father towers over him, "I thought you'd be used to stomach pain by now." Ben holds his abdomen, as he leans against the wall with his knees to his chest. "So, all this trouble, and you have nothing to say for yourself?" His voice raises, "A king needs to be able to explain his actions." Ben fails to speak, and he shakes his head, "Pathetic kid." He strides back to the door, looks at Noah for a minute, and then moves past him.

Noah shuts the door and looks over him, "Ben?"

He gulps, "I'm taking my break."

He shakes his head, "This isn't a break." and when Ben looks down, he walks over to him. "Are you okay? I saw him…"

"I'm fine," Ben dismisses.

"Can I see?" he asks. Ben lifts his shirt just enough to show where he'd been punched, and Noah takes a breath, "That already looks bad."

Ben drops his shirt, "Nothing like a little internal bleeding." before he sees Noah's concern. "Sorry. Just a joke."

"Ben. We have to report this."

He shakes his head, "This wasn't a work accident."

"I wish this was just a work accident," Noah informs. "Ben. How much does this happen?"

He eyes down, "Not a lot. Mostly just when I do stupid stuff and he can't help himself."

Noah sits next to him, "This isn't your fault."

Ben looks at him, "My father gets ill with anger." and he grins with stress. "My mother always told me that since I have the luxury of being emotionally stable, it's my job to keep him from getting upset."

"But you're not emotionally stable." Noah reminds him, "You tried to kill yourself."

Ben takes a moment, "That's just weakness brought on by stress. It doesn't count."

"There are people with schizophrenia who tried stabbing their kids," Noah informs. "They didn't get to keep them." Ben stays silent, and he opinionates, "Being sick is never an excuse to hurt a child. You're still under eighteen. You can do something about this."

Ben contemplates, "Can I die? I just really want to die."

"I know it's hard," Noah acknowledges, "but you can make your life better."

"For how long?" He faces him, "Do I really have the right to hurt my mother's marriage and image, when I might not even live another full year?"

There's a shout from the main store area, and Noah sighs, "Just give me a minute. I'll be right back." Ben watches him leave, and he hears him apologize to the customer about not being available. Ben's brought his problems into work, and now it's affecting business. That customer could have gotten so upset that he'd have decided to steal what he couldn't buy. He folds his arms, feels the device in his pocket, and then pulls out the box cutter. He presses the handle, the blade extends, he lets go, and it retracts. He twirls the circle to the third level, presses the handle, lets it go, and repeats. The grey triangle is as long as the end of his thumb, and he listens as it clinks open and close. "Ben." He looks up from the blade, and Noah strides towards him, hand outstretched, "Give it to me."

Ben wets his lips, handing it to him, "I wasn't going to do anything."

"Follow me," he commands, and Ben stands from the floor. He follows him back to the register counter, before Noah enters the computer. "Am I fired?" Noah looks at him, and he explains, "It's just, I can't open boxes without a box cutter, and now you're on there."

He searches the area, before he hands Ben a different box cutter, "I hope it doesn't come to that."

Ben feels the plastic that wraps over the small, metal piece, "It looks like a letter opener."

"Should be pretty hard to cut yourself with that," Noah informs.

Ben eyes from the new box cutter to Noah, "But I liked my old one."

"And I like my employees alive," he dismisses. "If I give you a knife, knowing what I know, then if you use it to hurt yourself, it would be my fault." Ben quiets, and he faces him, "Is there anything I can do to get you to turn your father in?" Ben's frown deepens, and he shakes his head. "Okay, then."

Ben watches him type on the computer, "What are you doing?"

"Do you remember the form you signed?"

He glances down, "Sort of."

"There's a law that states that if an employee shows worrying behavior, it's on the employer to offer help," he mentions. "I might not be able to get you to turn in your father, but I can order you to seek grief counseling."

Ben shakes his head, "I don't know anyone who's died."

Noah sternly looks at him, "You think you will." and Ben eyes down.

He prints out a paper, "I'm sending you to someone you can talk to about this. They will let me know if you're meeting them."

"And if I don't?" Ben wonders.

Noah frowns at him, "Then I can't keep you." Ben looks away, and he explains, "The store could get fined for lack of employee care if you don't accept the help and something happens. We don't have a lot of money. It's not something I can risk."

Ben takes a moment, "I understand."

"Good. Because, I'd really like to help you."

Ben faces him, "How many sessions do I have to go to?"

Noah hesitates, "Either until the therapist clears you or I see a difference in your mood."

Ben awkwardly smiles, "Is this really necessary?"

He widens his eyes, "I really think it is."

Ben glances down, "If my parents find out… They won't like it."

"They don't need to know," he reassures. "You're sixteen. They can't tell your parents anything without you saying it's okay."

"My doctor tells them everything," Ben counters.

"That's different," Noah reassures. "Teenagers have a better chance of getting help if their parents don't have to know."

Ben contemplates, "I guess, I can always have them sign a secrecy contract."

"I really only want to help," he reminds him.

"Yeah." Ben nods, "Thank you."

* * *

"What's going on?" Carlos asks, as he watches Aziz and Aladdin staring at the television.

"There's been another Jihadist attack," Aladdin informs, before he turns to him. "Carlos. Until further notice, you don't go outside. That includes the balcony."

"What?" Carlos questions, "Why?"

"They went after a homosexual," Aziz answers for him.

"But they'll be caught, right?" Carlos nervously assumes.

"They wore a mask," Aladdin informs, "and they didn't use a weapon. All they left were footprints—hair, if we're lucky."

"It's not like the judges would do anything, if they were caught," Aziz murmurs, and Carlos shuffles to sit next to him.

He stares at the TV, as a couple cries, "At least they care."

"The jihadist didn't kill him," Aziz irritably responds. "They forced the man to throw himself off the roof." He looks at him, "They don't care that he's dead. They care that he won't make it to Heaven."

"Why wouldn't he make it to Heaven?" Carlos frowns.

Aladdin sighs, "Technically, he committed suicide. The general belief is that someone who rejects the life God gave them cannot meet Him in Heaven."

Aziz stands, "I'm going to go pray and sleep."

"Carlos," Aladdin addresses, "I know this must be shocking for you."

"I'm fine," Carlos dismisses, before he follows Aziz into the hallway. "Hey."

Aziz turns to him, "Carlos. The sooner I pray, the sooner I can sleep."

"I was just," Carlos stammers, "wondering if you would like someone to pray with you."

"You're not religious," Aziz frowns.

Carlos shrugs, "I'd still like to learn."

"I guess, you can join me," he unsurely replies, "but don't try to say anything. The prayer will be in Arabic."

"I can do that," Carlos smiles, and Aziz almost laughs.

He nods him into his room, "Come on, then." Carlos follows Aziz through the bedroom and into the bathroom, and he fills the sink with water. "We need to wash our hands, face, and feet, so we are clean for prayer."

Carlos watches him soak a hand towel in the basin, "You need to wash your feet?"

Aziz soaks a second towel before handing it to him, "You too."

He watches him clean his hands and feet and then repeats the actions, "Aren't our feet just going to get dirty again?"

"And?" Aziz points out, "It's not like you would be dirty for sex, just because you would be dirty again after." Carlos's eyes shift, and he gives a look, "You better be washing after. People can smell that on you."

"No one's said anything," Carlos quietly counters.

Aziz walks past him, "I know you don't sweat, but you still need to stay clean." before he rolls out his prayer mat and faces him. "By the way, you should be sweating."

"I drink water," Carlos dismisses.

"Drinking water won't do anything if you can't absorb it," Aziz informs. "You need to be eating more."

"You're telling me to eat more?" Carlos disbelieves.

"It will help slow the water, so the body has enough time to use it," he informs.

"Sorry," Carlos's brows furrow. "I'm still stuck on how you're telling me to eat. I'll eat anything you put in front of me. You know that."

"I know you still can't make it through three meals a day," he rebuttals.

"I used to live on one meal a day," Carlos defends. "Give me a break."

"Aziz." Aladdin looks into the room, "What's going on here?"

"Carlos wants to learn how we pray," he answers.

Aladdin looks at him, "Carlos?" and he nods in reassurance. "Okay. I'll let you two be."

After he leaves, Aziz instructs, "Do what I do, but don't try to speak."

Carlos nods, "Okay."

Aziz steps onto the prayer mat, lifts his hands, and Carlos copies his actions. He says something, moves his left hand to the right side of his chest, and moves his right hand over his left wrist. Carlos does the action, and he watches as Aziz starts the prayer. It takes so long, Carlos wonders why a mat would be needed for prayer if they're only standing; however, he recalls how long the prayers can be, and he waits a minute before Aziz lifts his hands, rests his arms at his sides, and places his hands on his knees to bow. He stands back up, lifts his hands, and then kneels on the floor before placing his hands onto the mat and lowering his head.

After Carlos catches up with his actions, Aziz moves back into a kneeling position and then places his hands and head back to the mat. He stands back up and moves into his starting position, his right hand placed over his left wrist, as he takes his time to finish the prayer. He lifts his hands, places them to his knees, and then bows a final time. Carlos takes a breath, as he notices Aziz repeat the bow and then place his hands and forehead to the mat again. He moves back to the kneeling position and then towards the mat again. He moves from the kneeling position, to the standing position, and then to his starting position. Aziz lifts his hands before placing them to his knees to bow. He stands up to lift his hands again, before he moves his hands and head back to the mat. He moves back to the kneeling position before doing it again, and after returning to the kneeling position, he stays there for a minute before looking to either side of him.

When Aziz stops speaking and stands, Carlos nearly smiles, "Is that it?"

"I know you're annoyed it took so long," Aziz acknowledges.

"Annoyed?" Carlos uneasily laughs, "Who needs exercise, when you can just pray?" Aziz partly smiles, and he unsurely asks, "What did you pray for?" Carlos assumes, "For that guy to get caught?"

Aziz's expression slips, "The five daily prayers are mostly quotes from the Quran. It's about connecting to God. It's not a time to ask for favors."

"But the prayer was like ten minutes," Carlos doubts. "You had to be praying for something."

"When we pray," he informs, "we're cleaning our soul of sin, as when we wash, we clean our bodies of dirt. The longer we pray, the cleaner we are."

"So," Carlos frowns, "you don't pray for anything else?"

"Just that God will forgive our mistakes and still love us," Aziz answers. "But God knows what's in our hearts. We don't need to tell Him anything. He will help us if we need it."

Carlos takes a moment, "And if a guy likes guys instead of girls?" Aziz fails to answer, and Carlos asks, "If God knows you're hurt, shouldn't He help you?"

Aziz's eyes widen, "I don't question God or His plans for me."

"And what plans are those?" Carlos counters.

He evenly expresses, "I get to rule this holy kingdom and heir in a new generation."

"Holy kingdom?" Carlos disbelieves. "You just saw a man get killed for your God."

"And, maybe, if that man could have focused on helping others or obeying God rather than fulfill his own lustful sins," Aziz asserts, "maybe it wouldn't have happened."

"But you kissed me," Carlos angrily reminds him. "You're only fifteen, Az. Do you really think that by the time you're twenty-five, you won't be fucking some man?"

His eyes narrow, "No. Because, I will be married by the time I'm twenty-one to secure the throne, and part of a wife's duty is to keep her husband from sin."

Carlos shakes his head, "You can't distract yourself forever."

Aziz takes a deep breath, "Look. I know that you might not have anyone you want to see in Heaven, but do you realize how long an eternity is? It's forever, Carlos—longer than forever—and I don't plan on spending it being tormented in a fiery Hell with demons clawing at my skin, when I could be spending it in peace with my family and God." Carlos stares at him, and Aziz tries to smile, "You could see God, Carlos. Isn't a life of abstinence or procreation worth seeing the Creator of all things?"

"I've seen a god," Carlos comments. "If they're all like him, it's not worth it."

"We're not talking about a god." Aziz stresses, "We're talking about the God, His Greatest and Most Merciful."

"A merciful god wouldn't send you to Hell for a biology he gave you," Carlos inputs.

"It's not my biology," Aziz dismisses. "Homosexuality is a mental illness created by the devil to prevent God's creatures from flourishing and thin out the human population."

Carlos sighs, "You don't believe that, do you?"

He reaches for his arms, "Carlos. I know with God I can beat this. And when I make it to Heaven, I'd really like it if I could see you there." Carlos's mouth hangs open in lack of response, and he continues, "You didn't deserve the Isle, and you don't deserve Hell. Please. I know we can stay strong if we work through this together."

He shuts his eyes, "Sure."

"Really?" Aziz hopes.

Carlos unenthusiastically comments, "I'm doing this, so you don't have to. I'll pray with you, and I will find a girl this year to date. But when I fail, don't tell me I didn't try. And don't tell me it will be different for you, because it won't be."

"I'm so happy, now," Aziz grins.

Carlos takes a deep breath, "I'm suddenly tired."

"Set an alarm for five," he eagerly instructs. "Next prayer is before sunrise."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 12/26/2019

\- **Megan** Thank you for sharing your story. I'm glad the help you were offered was successful.

\- Merry Christmas. I hope everyone is having a decent holiday season.


	66. Grief

**Grief **

**(Monday Afternoon, July 29****th****)**

"Good afternoon, King Ben," the councilor smiles. "How are you today?"

"Tired," Ben says, as he sits across from her.

"Long day?" she questions.

He shakes his head with a deep frown, "I sleep in the mornings. I just woke up."

She nods, "Well, then, maybe I can give you a good start." before glancing at her notes. "Your employer's informed me that your mood has been increasingly affected by health concerns."

"That's a way to put it," Ben confirms.

"Something about your body temperature." She questions, "Would you like to explain?"

Ben wets his lips, "My body temperature abnormally high. Even when I take medicine for it, it's above a hundred degrees Fahrenheit. It's something I've had my entire life, and my parents always worry when I get sick that I will die."

"Has their worries added to your own?" she wonders.

Ben takes a minute, "All I know is I'm going to die, and there's no telling when."

"And how does that make you feel?"

"I've been waiting to die," Ben informs. "I just wish it would happen."

"Nervous?" she questions.

He half laughs, "Always."

"Deadly illness can be a very scary thing," she acknowledges. "What I try to do for people in your situation is to get you to enjoy whatever time you have left."

"Like a bucket list?" Ben shakes his head, "I'm not a cancer patient. I don't know if I have five months or ten years to get my affairs in order."

"You could still make one, if you'd like," she counters. "No one wants to die leaving things unsaid or desires unfulfilled."

"I'd be okay with dying right now," Ben disagrees.

"Is that something you've thought a lot about?" she inquires.

"Dying?" he awkwardly smiles. "Of course."

"Wanting to die," she corrects. "How often a day do you think about it?"

Ben hesitates, "A good amount."

She nods, "There's an exercise I'd like you to try." before she hands him a small notepad. "Every day, I'd like you to right down three reasons to continue to live."

Ben eyes from the yellow paper to her, "Why?"

"You say you'd like to die now." She explains, "That could be an indication of suicidal thoughts, and this exercise is used to overcome that idea."

"Is it suicide if I'm already dying?" Ben speculates.

"We're all going to die," she frowns. "Most of us have the luxury of believing we could live forever, until we grow old and science has not advanced far enough." She pauses, "And like you, we don't know when we'll die either. All we know is it will happen, and we have a limited amount of time to do whatever it is we've set out to accomplish." Ben nods in understanding, and she nods to the lined paper, "List three reasons to live."

Ben stares at the paper, before he takes a deep breath and shakes his head, "It's too hard."

"Just think of something," she calmly comments. "It can be small."

Ben contemplates, "I think I have one, but it's stupid."

"There are no stupid reasons to live," she reassures.

"I don't want to prove Chad right." He informs, "He's really upset about me wanting to die, called me a coward."

"He clearly cares about you," she comments, "to want you to stay here."

"He does," Ben solemnly agrees, before he writes the reason down.

"And you'd like to make up with him," she prods.

Ben sighs, "It's not fair for me to expect him to do that."

"You can always try," she suggests.

He meets her grey eyes, "I need to learn how to accept no for an answer."

"Alright," she accepts. "Can you think of anything else to add to your list?"

Ben takes a moment, "My father thinks that if I… die early, my mother… that he wouldn't be enough to keep her going."

When he doesn't move, she questions, "Do you want to write that down?"

He hopelessly shakes his head, "How is any of this supposed to keep me from leaving?"

"It might not," she acknowledges, "but thinking about a reason to stay might give you the extra time you need to find a better reason or for someone to notice you could use their help."

"Their help?" Ben repeats.

"Well, let's say Prince Chad notices you're extra thoughtful one day," she supplies, "he might want to distract you from those darker thoughts."

"Chad can't notice me if he's not seeing me," Ben huffs.

She hesitates, "Would you like to talk about that, your parting from Chad?"

Ben shakily breathes, "It feels like half of my life is missing, that part of me is missing."

"He kept you going," she notes.

"He certainly kept things interesting," he uneasily laughs. "I always wanted to be alone, except when it was him. And every once in a while, he would pull me into his life, make me go out and talk to his friends. We'd make a mess of things, and I didn't care… because when I spent time with him, it was like we were untouchable. My family, my illness, our titles, it all disappeared. And I really like being alone, but it was always better being alone with him." He pauses and shakes his head, "Sorry. I know that must sound really fantastical and pathetic."

"No," she disagrees. "It sounds like you two were close."

"I really miss him," Ben admits.

"Maybe you'd like your third reason to be on good terms with him?" she advises.

"Good terms?" he disbelieves.

"He has a large influence on your emotional state," she recognizes. "Not being on good terms with him might be causing unnecessary stress." Ben shakes his head, and she explains, "You two have been friends for a long time. I'm sure he'd like to be on good terms too."

"Being on good terms isn't enough," Ben frustrates. "I want him in my life."

She takes a moment, "Then make that your reason."

Ben stares down at the paper, "How can I ask him after everything?"

"You're diplomatic," she reminds him. "Why don't you arrange a meeting for you two to talk it out. You can use phrases like 'I feel' or 'I would like' instead of arguing."

"He's fifteen, and he's not trained for political discussion," Ben dismisses. "He will say what he feels how he feels it."

"You could do it here," she offers. "We could set rules, and I can keep the peace."

"I'm not comfortable with that," he unsurely says.

"Why not?" she questions.

"Because," Ben faces her, "he knows things about me that you don't, and it will get brought up if I talk to him."

"I wouldn't judge," she reassures.

Ben wets his lips, "Mal and Evie. They can be my third reason. If I die, my proclamation to bring them over could be dismissed. I can't risk dying, before I know they can stay here."

She nods, "That's a good reason as any."

"Do I need new reasons every day?" he complains.

"No," she evenly expresses, "but I'd like you to take the time to come up with ones that you perceive as better or more effective."

"Alright," he accepts.

"Now we can start on the bucket list," she smiles.

Ben groans, "Really?"

"Your life will feel more meaningful if you have goals to accomplish."

"But I don't know how long I have," Ben counters.

"Let's start with today," she solves. "What's one thing you can do today?"

Ben takes a minute, "I haven't really talked to Mal about what happened before she got hospitalized. I'd like to know what's going on there."

"Okay." She continues, "Now, I'd like you to list seven things for the week."

"Seven?" Ben's brows raise.

"It's just to keep you busy," she explains. "There's no shame in not getting everything done. Some things can be hard and take time. If you don't finish in time, just add it to the next week. You can even divide it into parts if you think that will be easier to manage."

"This week." Ben takes a deep breath, "Can I put down talking to Mal?"

"If you'd like." She inquires, "Would you like to add to it, plan a little?"

"I could give her a protein shake," Ben nearly smiles, before his expression falters. "Oh, wait. She can't drink water."

"Can you use milk?"

"Mal likes milk," Ben smiles. "I think that'll work."

"So, you will open conversation by offering a drink," she concludes, and Ben writes it down. "What else can you do this week?"

"It's Unification Week," Ben remembers. "I could ask Chad to meet at the theater."

"Sounds good," she smiles.

Ben writes it down; however, when he thinks more, he frowns and his eyes shift, "I can't think of anything else."

"You don't need to solve all your problems in one week," she assures. "What's something you want to do for yourself?"

Ben pictures himself in the mirror, and his frown deepens, "I don't know."

"You don't have something you want to buy or a movie you want to watch?" Ben shakes his head, and she comments, "If you're going to the theater, maybe you'd like a new tie?"

"No," Ben dismisses.

"For some people, the way they look affects their emotional health." She explains, "When someone showers and dresses well, they feel better. When they wear something new that might help them express themselves more currently, it allows them to feel seen and mattered."

"I'm king," Ben points out. "My clothes already express that."

"Being king isn't who you are," she counters. "It's your job."

"My title is who I am," Ben dismantles. "A health store associate is my job." She stays quiet, and he shakes his head, "You never asked why a king would be working at a store."

"I just assumed you were trying to reconnect with the general public," she answers.

Ben eyes away, "There's an excuse for everything. No wonder no one knows anything."

"Your illness," she guesses. "Do you wish people knew?"

"The council would have to know first," Ben thinks, before he writes it down. "Within the next seven days, I will tell them."

"That's very courageous of you."

"It's very disrespectful that I haven't told them yet," Ben inputs, before he taps the notepad with the pen's other end.

"Only four more to go," she encourages.

"Yeah," he seethes. "If only I could think."

"Hungry?" she questions.

He falters, "What?"

"Your stomach's growled a couple times," she informs.

"Yeah, um," he scratches the back of his head. "I didn't have time before coming here."

"Maybe you could treat yourself to something nice, invite your friends or family to a buffet," she suggests.

"That would probably get my friends off my back," Ben murmurs. "But no. I can't."

"You can't go to a buffet or you can't eat?" she questions.

Ben hesitates, "Every day it's everyone I see talking about food, offering food, asking if I ate, what I ate, and how much. I would like just one minute, where my life isn't consumed by it. Can you do that for me?"

"No food talk," she confirms.

"Thank you," Ben breathes with relief, before he looks at the paper again. "We should be getting our class lists soon. I can probably get school supplies this week."

She nods, "Planning for the future is good. What else?"

Ben places a hand to his head, "I don't know."

"Is there anyone else you want to talk to?" she prompts, and he can't help but smile.

"There is someone," Ben admits, "but I don't know. I don't even have his number. I'd have to like special order him or something."

"Is that an option?" she inquires.

"I could put him on my pizza order," Ben speculates, "but that doesn't mean he would bring it."

"Well, considering this is the first time I've seen you smile since you got here," she begins, "it's my professional opinion that you should add him to your list."

Ben jots it down, "Order Tyler."

"Two more," she smiles.

He hears his phone again and pulls it out, "I have to get back to Bridget at some point."

"And your last thing?"

Ben wets his lips, "I want to reassure my mother that I'm not going to die, but my weight worries her. I'm afraid if she just sees me, she will cry."

"The way you described it makes it sound like a stress issue." She wonders, "Maybe you could try explaining to her that talking about it too much makes it harder."

Ben writes it down, "I guess I can try that." before he covers his mouth and yawns.

"Can you come up with five long-term goals for me, please?"

Ben takes a deep breath, "Graduate high school, graduate college, finish the low-income apartment project, get married, and attend my father's funeral—where everyone will be able to remind me what a great man he is." Ben grins at her, "Are we done now?"

"We have five minutes until the hour is over," she informs, and Ben's expression falls. "There seems to be stress around your parents. Would you like to talk about your father?"

"Not really," Ben eyes away.

"What about your mother?"

He faces her, "I love her." before he shakes his head. "That's all there really is to it."


	67. It's What's True

**It's What's True **

**(Monday Night, July 29****th****)**

When Ben opens the double doors, his parents stand from the alcove, and his father steps forward, "It's about time. Where have you been?"

Ben's mouth gapes, "I was at work. What—"

"Do you even realize what you've done?" he furiously questions.

"Adam," Ben's mother stands from the couch.

"You should have seen how your friend disgraced us in his interview," he continues. "About what terrible parents we are and how you'd be better off in prison than under our care."

Ben's brows furrow, "Do you mean Chad?"

"They're on a break," Belle reminds him.

"They say that," he doubts.

"You've seen how upset Ben's been over this," she steps forward.

"They take a break all the time," he dismisses, before he turns back to Ben. "The matter here is that you knew how unstable your relationship with him was, and you vented whatever misconstrued complaints you have on us to him."

Ben's heart beats faster, "You're saying it's my fault."

"We have told you to keep these things private," his mother backs up. "When you vouch for someone, you have to accept the consequences of those who fail you."

He feels something sink within him, "What?"

"Because of you, you could get taken from us," he yells. "Do you really think you have it that bad here? You go where you want, when you want. You have as much space you need for as much stuff you want, and you're protected." He stretches an arm out to the wall, "Do you really think you're going to be as safe or as protected as you are in this castle?"

Ben evenly expresses, "That implies I'm safe here now." and when his father strides forward, Ben stumbles back and falls to the floor.

He huffs, turning to Belle, "I didn't even touch him."

She takes his lifted hand into hers and whispers, "I know." before she moves towards Ben and kneels. "Are you okay?"

He scoots against the door, "Ben. You're perfectly safe here."

"If I'm safe," his eyes widen, "then you'll let me to my room."

She slowly nods, "Of course." before she stands, clasps her hands, and he runs past them.

"You're just letting him get away?" Adam sneers.

"He just got home," Belle reasons. "He needs to rest and be alone."

"He wanted you to think I pushed him," he persists.

"He fell," Belle's voice raises, "because he hasn't eaten and can't keep his footing."

Adam settles, "I still think we should be making him eat."

"And how do you propose we do that?"

"Well, uh, we could," he begins.

She takes his hands, "We need to give him space."

"But he's not even drinking." Adam reminds her, "The calendar—"

"I know what the calendar says."

"It's been over two weeks," Adam hisses.

"I know." She recalls, "He hasn't had any, since Mal tried to get him to kill her."

"That's not why he's not eating," he insists.

"Adam," she promises, "we'll figure this out." A small noise emits from his throat, and she hugs him, "I can get Ben to eat. I'll just have to… persuade him a little."

He pushes her from him, "You better not be planning on giving that boy any ideas."

"You want him to survive," her eyes narrow, "don't you?"

Adam grumbles and crosses his arms, as he looks away, "I don't like it."

She steps towards him and places a hand to his cheek, so he faces her, "Everything's going to be okay. You'll see."

"The last time you told me that," he cautiously comments, "I was about to die."

She solemnly answers, "I'm afraid if I don't do this, Ben might."

* * *

How could Chad do this to him? How does someone claim they care about you, deny any future relationship with you, and sabotage your living situation all in one interview? Ben replays the part about what he'd have to do to get him back. Snow White assumed getting down on his knees was meant as an apology, but Ben knows better. Chad's asking for a blow job. If he shows Chad he likes him just as much as Chad likes him, he'll get another chance. Except, he's not interested in doing that with Chad, and he can't lie about that. So, he'll never have him again.

The door creeks open, and Mal sees him shaking as he lies on the bed, "Ben?" She hears him cry, and she shuts the door before slowly making her way to him. "Ben?"

When she sits next to him, he says, "I'm never going to have Chad again."

Mal sits near his legs, "You don't know that."

"No," Ben insists. "He made it clear. If I don't make him feel wanted, I'm not wanted." Mal fails to speak, and he clarifies, "What's it like, giving a blow job, you think?"

"I don't know," Mal admits.

"You offered me one," Ben remembers. "Why?"

"I wanted to do it for you."

"Maybe I should want to do it for Chad," he evenly expresses.

Mal hesitates, "Do you want to?"

"He gave me his blood, and all he wanted was… in return."

Mal's face scrunches, and she feels his skin, "Ben. You're hot."

He pauses, "We're not together."

"And who's fault is that?" Mal huffs, "You broke up with me. Remember?" He stays quiet, and she shakes her head, "Let me help you." She moves to his side and scoots under the sheet, before she moves him onto his back.

"Just hold me," he tiredly states. "Please." He turns back onto his side, and Mal wraps an arm around him as she nuzzles his neck. He sighs, "That's nice."

She clings closer to him, and he winces. She lets go, "Ben. Did I hurt you?"

"No," he sighs. "I just… I was being stupid."

"Ben," Mal asserts. "Let me see."

When Ben turns towards her, he lifts his shirt, and she gapes at the large bruise. "It's nothing," he lies.

"That is not nothing," she enunciates. "What the hell happened, Ben?"

He stares past her, "Stomach pain isn't new to me."

Mal's eyes narrow, "Did your father do this?" He eyes away, and she uneasily laughs, "Of course, he did." She notices his eyes flutter, and she places a hand to his face, "Ben. You need to stay awake."

"I'm so tired," he whispers. She kisses him, and he questions, "What are you doing?"

She moves her hand to his neck, "Let me help."

"What about Evie?"

"Evie knows I can't be with just one person. She doesn't like it." Mal partly smiles, "But she likes you."

"Mal," Ben whispers.

"Shh," she hushes, before she moves in to kiss him again.

"Mal," he repeats.

"Is this too much?" She realizes, "You're not… hungry?"

"I'm too tired to eat." He meets her jade eyes, "Mal. I still love you."

She nods, "I know." before she kisses him again.

* * *

When Belle answers the door, she eyes between the two officers, "May I help you?"

The brown-haired man introduces, "I'm Officer Rinehart." before he nods to the black-haired one. "This is my partner Officer Kolinski. We're here to do a welfare check on King Ben Florian."

"Again?" she takes offense. "Haven't you had enough of this?"

His brown eyes meet hers, "Between recent calls and Prince Chad's interview, we thought it would be a good idea to put their worries to rest. Don't you agree?"

She takes a deep breath, "I suppose, you should come in, then." and when she steps aside, they enter. "Why don't we take a seat?"

"That shouldn't be necessary," the grey eyed man rejects. "We only have a few questions for you."

"Is it true you've kept your son from medical care?" the first officer asks.

"What?" she disbelieves. "Of course, not."

"We've been alerted otherwise," the second informs.

"That's ridiculous," she opposes. "He gets checkups. We take him to the dentist, and he's had his vision checked."

"And what did the eye doctor say about his day blindness?" She falls silent, and he continues, "Ma'am. Is it true your husband has broken your son's sunglasses?"

She nods once, "He has done that, yes." and the officers look at each other. "But it's just when he tries wearing them in public. He's afraid that it might give people the wrong idea and that someone might want to hurt him for… being less than normal."

"If you're afraid for King Ben's safety," Officer Kolinski comments, "couldn't you just hire him a bodyguard?"

"You had one at the front gate," Officer Rinehart supports.

"Who can you really trust to keep a country's leader safe?" she uneasily excuses.

"We also heard that he has a lifelong physical illness of which you've been having him self-medicate with over-the-counter medication," Officer Rinehart adds.

"Well, that's just," she nervously starts.

"Your Highness," the other's grey eyes concern, "where is your husband right now?"

"He's been stressed," she warns. "We shouldn't bother him."

"Would you consider him dangerous?" he insinuates.

"Dangerous?" She shakes her no, "No. Of course, not." before she straightens her posture. "Visitors just make him nervous."

"If he's not doing anything wrong, then there should be no reason to be nervous," the other officer concludes, before they offer each other a nod.

Officer Rinehart continues, "We're obligated to speak with both parents, but before we do speak to your husband, there's another question we have for you."

"And what would that be?" she inquires.

"Prince Chad announced that King Ben has been suicidal for the last year," he explains. "Have you noticed anything that validates that?"

"We've recently become aware of it," she acknowledges. "Most of his attempts happened while he was away at school."

"Have you taken any steps to get him help?" Officer Kolinski questions, and she fails to answer. "Ma'am. You must know this doesn't look good on you."

She nods, tears intruding her eyes, "I'm aware."

"Is there a reason why you haven't gotten him help?" the brown-haired officer asks.

Belle gulps, "Well, uh." and she takes a deep breath before facing him. "I just figured that if antidepressants had negative effects on me, that it may have negative effects on him. And if the public found out, it would just be more people judging him and calling out his weakness."

"Depression isn't weakness," Kolinski's grey eyes stern. "It's a clinical condition and requires clinical help."

"But if it's only situational," she begins.

"Then Ben needs to be removed from his situation," he insists.

Rinehart looks from his partner to Belle, "You could have at least taken him to see a therapist. So, why didn't you?"

She holds her stomach with one hand and her arm with the other, "I don't know why… It all seems very trivial now."

"Belle?" a voice calls from the top of the stairs, and she watches as Adam descends the staircase. "Who are you?" he stares the officers down.

"Nervous, huh?" Kolinski quietly comments.

"I'm Officer Rinehart and this is Officer Kolinski," he reintroduces.

"They're here to do a welfare check on Ben," she warns.

He takes a step, and they look up at him. "You're questioning the way I parent my child, are you?"

"Adam," Belle presses on his chest. "There's no reason to get defensive." She smiles at them, "We're happy to know that there are people looking after the welfare of our son, and if there's anything we're doing wrong, we're happy to receive any suggestions."

Officer Rinehart faces Adam, "We were just telling Belle that we recommend putting Ben into therapy for his depression."

Adam shakes his head, "No."

"They're not asking," Belle sternly remarks.

"No." He meets their gaze, "My son isn't going to have the entire country scrutinizing his personal problems, just because he let his feelings slip to some so-called professional."

"We can get them to sign that contract," she reminds him, before she faces the officers. "We're happy to find someone who's willing to speak to Ben in confidence."

Rinehart frowns, "We're also going to ask that you talk to his doctor about getting him on a proper medication for his physical illness."

"We can do that," she promises.

"You know how easy it will be for a reporter to get ahold of that?" Adam disbelieves.

Belle widens her eyes at him, "Do you want our son to be taken from us?" and he quiets. "If we believe ourselves to be the only ones who truly know his needs, then our priority should be to keep him here with us."

Adam faces the officers, "Ben is my son. It's my monarchal right to have him here."

"The monarchal right is there so the child can be trained into their royal position," Kolinski reminds him. "That right no longer qualifies now that your son's been crowned."

Rinehart looks at Belle, "We'd like to speak to him now, please."

"Of course," she accepts. "I believe he's resting in his room. I'll show you." She walks to the staircase, the officers pass Adam, and they follow her to Ben's room. She knocks on the door, "Ben? We have visitors." She looks back at the men, "He never answers." before she cracks the door open.

Loud steps are heard, and Mal opens it just enough to show her grin, "Belle. Police." Mal frowns at Belle, "What's the police doing here?"

"What are you doing in Ben's room?" she shifts.

Mal glances from the officers to her, "He wasn't feeling well."

"Is he feeling better?"

Mal shakes her head, "Yeah. Some."

"We need to talk to him," she simply says, and Mal eyes between them again before exiting the room and heading down the hall.

Officer Kolinski calls after her, "Don't leave the premises." and she turns back around. "We'll be wanting to speak with you too."

"I'll be in the East Wing," she softly says, as she points to the door dividing the wings.

The officer nods, and after Mal leaves, they enter Ben's room. "Your Majesty?"

Ben eyes between them, "What's going on?"

"We're here to check on you," Officer Rinehart informs.

Officer Kolinski turns to Belle, "We are going to have to speak to him alone."

She looks at Ben, and he nods. She shuts the door, and Ben continues in French, "I told you to get a warrant. Do you have one?"

"We don't need to have a warrant to perform a welfare check," he comments.

"You're not feeling well?" Kolinski questions. Ben opens his mouth to answer, and he informs, "Your mother's already admitted that they have you using cold medicine instead of a specific prescription." He nods to the bottle on Ben's bedside table, and Ben notices it. "We've already told her she needs to change that."

Ben shakes his head, "That's too public."

Rinehart hesitates, "Do you believe that?"

He frowns at them, "It's what's true." The officers give each other a look, and Ben watches the brown-haired man scribble something down. "What was that?"

"Nothing to worry about," he reassures.

The black-haired officer continues, "Would you say your father gets violent?"

Ben turns up his head, "He gets angry sometimes."

"And how does he express that anger?"

"It depends." He eyes between them, "I don't think my father would ever want to hurt me, if that's what you're asking."

Officer Rinehart writes something on the notepad and shows it to his partner, before Kolinski questions, "Are you afraid of your father?"

Ben awkwardly smiles, "Everyone's afraid of him. It's his legacy."

"But you, as his son," he distinguishes. "Are you afraid of him, even though you know him personally?"

He shrugs, "People I'm close to have become afraid of me. Does it mean anything?"

Rinehart makes a note, "Next question." before he faces him. "Do you feel like you would be happier somewhere else?"

Ben takes a minute, "What do you mean?"

"If you had the option to live somewhere else," he rewords, "do you think you would be happier there?"

Ben's eyes lower, "I go to a boarding school." before he meets his brown eyes. "It hasn't solved much of anything."

"Your school is fairly close to where you live," Kolinski points out. "How often do you see your parents during the year?"

"At least every Sunday," Ben admits. "We have dinner, so I can update them."

"In the situation we're suggesting," he clarifies, "you wouldn't be obligated to see your parents at all, not if you don't wish to."

"If I don't see my parents," Ben informs, "they'll come to see me."

"If you're afraid they would come after you," Rinehart offers, "you could get a restraining order."

"An order of protection would also cover any phone calls or other forms of contact," Kolinski adds.

"Thank you." Ben quietly declares, "But I'm fine where I am."

* * *

\- The timeline will diverge after the next set of chapters. Keep an eye out for the new story once I post those. I'm thinking something along the lines of "Alternate Problems: Time Lapse". I hope you've enjoyed these chapters. Please leave any thoughts or predictions you may have in the comments. Thank you.


	68. Safe is a Subjective Term

**Safe is a Subjective Term **

**(Monday Night, July 29****th****)**

"Evie," Mal sighs, as she enters the East Wing kitchen. "You can't keep cooking, if you're not going to help us eat it."

"What?" she leans on the counter and smiles. "You don't like having a feast every day?"

"How are you even paying for this?" Mal complains, as she walks over to her.

"You," she simply says. "Selling your drawings online. I made my own social media page, and it blew up. Bad." She hands her a plate, "Here. Have a strawberry crème."

"You can make fancy chocolate now?" Mal's brows furrow.

"Carlos asked me to," she informs. "Too bad no one can complement me now."

Mal eats the strawberry chocolate and frowns, "It's wonderful, Eves."

"That doesn't sound like a compliment," Evie complains.

She faces her, "The police are here. They're talking to Ben, and they want to talk to me."

"Oh, yeah," Evie nods. "They're here to see if Ben's being abused."

Mal's mouth gapes, "And how would you know that?"

"It just makes sense," she supplies, before she moves over to the oven, takes out the muffins, and shuts it off.

"Uh, yeah," Mal scoffs. "So does an invisible, all-seeing being. 'Cause there's no other reasonable explanation at all."

"Why else would they be here?" Evie points out.

"I don't know," Mal stresses. "Maybe, since my sentence is ending soon, they don't want some carnivorous fairy with hypnotism free to roam the country."

"They're here for Ben," Evie reassures. "Not you."

Mal strides over to take a chocolate muffin from the pan, "You sure about that?"

"Have I ever been wrong?" she inquires.

"Uh, yeah," Mal emphasizes.

"Give it five years," Evie requests.

"Whatever you say, E," Mal entertains, before she sees Evie still and stare ahead. "Eves? You okay." She frowns at her, and Mal questions, "Maybe you should sit down."

"You can't tell them," Evie insists.

"Tell who what?"

"The police," Evie reminds her. "Whatever you're planning on telling them, you can't."

"I don't even know what they want to ask me," Mal uneasily laughs.

"If you tell them, Ben could die." She tears up, "Please, Mal. You can't say anything."

"Hey." Mal stands and steps towards her, "It's okay."

"No," Evie shakes her head hard. "If you tell them, he'll get hurt. He'll—He."

"E." Mal places one hand to Evie's arm, as she uses the other to wipe the tears away, "Ben's going to be okay."

"Not if you tell them about his parents," Evie's eyes widen. "He won't be. I know he won't."

"And how do you know that?" she frowns.

"I just do." She grabs her hands, "Mal. This is Ben. If there's even a five percent chance that he could die, do you really want to risk it?"

"His father punched him in the stomach," Mal informs. "What if the next time is worse? What if I don't tell them, and next time he dies?"

"We never told anyone," Evie sadly reminds her. "There are reasons why we don't. Are you really going to turn on Ben now?"

"I wish we'd been able to get help sooner," she disagrees. "This isn't The Isle, Evie. The cops can help Ben, and he will be safe."

"Before or after he gets stabbed," Evie nearly yells.

"I really wish you'd just eat something," Mal grits her teeth. "If you were thinking right, you would know I'm right. Adam is half a foot taller than him and probably two hundred pounds heavier. If he stays here, he's a goner."

"If he stays here, he will be safe," Evie counters.

"From what?" Mal disbelieves. "Some stabbing? You're an empath, Evie, not a damn psychic. You can't tell me you know Ben will be safe here."

"No," Evie agrees. "I know he's not safe if he isn't." Mal eyes over her, before her attention is brought to the footsteps nearing them.

When the officers appear, Rinehart inquires, "Can we speak to you now?"

"Yeah." Mal hurries past them, "Come on." and they follow her to the living area. She turns around, "So. What's this about?"

"After Prince Chad's interview, we'd like to address his claims to King Ben's safety."

"You want to make sure he's not being abused," she understands.

"I know you want what's best for him," Officer Kolinski suggests.

"As we were all nicely pointed out when we got here," Mal counters, "I don't know what abuse is when I see it."

"It's simple enough," Rinehart informs. "Just tell us, do you think he's safe here?"

"Safe is a subjective term," Mal whispers as her eyes shift, and she recalls Evie's insistence that Ben wouldn't be safe if she'd said anything.

"Have you seen him get hurt here?" Kolinski simplifies.

"No," Mal stares down. Ben's family is royal. For all they know, Adam could get away with this, and the next time he outrages, he could take it out on Ben for questioning his character. He could try to stab Ben as Evie had predicated, and he could die.

Rinehart mentions, "Abuse can also be psychological. Have you seen his father or mother make him behave out of fear or emotionally manipulate him?" Ben would do anything for his mother. He loves her too much not to, but that's not Belle's fault. She might have used it a few times, but most of those times seemed to his for his safety or the family's benefit. "Mal?"

She looks at them, "His father is critical and his mother can be emotionally involved, but I don't think they can help it." Mal shrugs, "And who says those are bad things? If my mother cared about what I was doing and actually loved me, then she wouldn't be a lizard."

"What do you mean by emotionally involved?" Kolinski questions.

She shrugs, "I don't know. It just sometimes seems like she's counting on him for comfort or something."

"What do they talk to about each other?" he asks.

"Mostly his father, his health, and being king," Mal slowly answers. "Why?"

"Does Belle talk about her relationship with Adam?" Rinehart continues.

"I think so." Her eyebrows furrow.

"Does she talk about her sex life with her son?" Kolinski furthers.

Mal's mouth opens to speak, but she sighs in realization, "I don't know."

The officers give each other a look, before Rinehart faces Mal again, "Have you seen anything that suggests Adam could be hurting Belle?"

Mal hesitates, "I've seen things, but…"

"But?" he prompts.

She unsurely states, "I get the impression that Belle likes having a beast for a husband. I feel like if the stuff he's done was bad enough to counter that, she would have left him already."

"A lot of people find it hard to leave their partners," Rinehart informs. "Emotional manipulation causes them to either stay or come back. It doesn't mean they like it."

"All I'm saying," Mal points out, "is that if Adam is as large and tall as he is, then maybe he's big in other places too. And maybe she's not willing to give that up over some fit her husband sometimes gets."

"Alright," Rinehart nods, before he turns to his partner. "If we can confirm with her that he has hurt her, that might lead to the king opening up about anything that might've happened to him."

"Exactly what I was thinking," Kolinski confirms. "Let's find her."

* * *

"Ma'am," Rinehart addresses, after they find her in the alcove area. "We'd like to speak with you again, please."

She sets the book down and stands, "Of course, officers."

They walk closer to her, and Rinehart comments, "In situations where there's suspected abuse on a child, it's often seen that the partner of the abuser is also being mistreated."

"I'm fine," she reassures.

"So, your husband never hurts you?" Kolinski questions.

"You saw him earlier," Belle frowns. "He lacks emotional intelligence, but I know he would never want to hurt me."

"Has he?" he firmly repeats.

"Nothing serious," she dismisses. "I promise."

"I hate to suggest this," Rinehart starts, "but you're not enduring spousal abuse are you, for the benefits of the relationship."

"Everyone likes to point out that I married Adam for the library," she uneasily smiles.

"No, ma'am," he disagrees. "I was actually trying to ask if you're staying with him for the sake of keeping a good sexual relationship."

"Honestly," she discloses, "the sex isn't all that great anymore. With age I've bruised easier, and Adam is still so aggressive. It was fun when we were young. Less so, now."

"Have you told him that?" he inquires.

"Half of the time I'm not even in the mood," she answers. "It wouldn't be fair of me to tell him not to enjoy himself fully, if it has little impact on me."

"Is the sex consensual?" Kolinski questions.

"What?" she disbelieves. "Of course, it is."

"You said you aren't always in the mood," he explains himself.

"I do it for him," Belle tiredly expresses. "Sex relieves stress, and I'm not going to deny my husband that relief just because I'd rather read."

"Alright," Rinehart accepts, "but do remember that you're not obligated to do it."

"Adam doesn't ask for sex if I'm ill or injured," she informs. "I reassure you, it's fine."

"We need confirmation," Kolinski comments. "Are you sure you're safe here? If you're not, we can call backup to place him into custody, until we can get your official statement."

"The only thing that's going to put me in danger," Belle's eyes widen, "is if Adam becomes frightened of losing me and Ben. He's no danger. I promise you that, but he does not understand his strength and he cannot control his emotions. He needs a calm, stable environment." She nods to the door, "I'm going to need you to leave. Please."

Rinehart nods, "We're going to be back in a week to check on Ben again. If you have not taken steps to get him a prescription for his physical illness and therapy for his depression, then we will deem you and Adam unfit to take care of him."

"I understand," she acknowledges. "I'll take care of it."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 01/06/2020 (Happy New Year, everyone!)

\- **Darthamster12** Thank you for your offer. I sent a PM going further into detail. Let me know if you didn't get it.

\- This is the chapter where the alternate timeline fic starts. Make sure to go read it.


	69. Passions

**Passions **

**(Tuesday Morning, July 30****th****)**

"What's prompted you to change your mind?" Dr. Roberts questions.

"Prince Chad's interview raised some concerns," Belle answers. "The police pointed out that Ben's health is more important than keeping his condition out of the news."

"Well, I'm glad you've reconsidered," he evenly expresses, "but there are some issues we'll have to address first."

"Issues?" Ben inquires.

"You've been taking cold medicine for years." He explains, "It's completely possible your body may have become dependent on it."

"But he won't need it if he has something else," Belle bypasses.

Ben's mouth cracks open, "That's not what he's saying." before he shakes his head. "But there's nothing addictive in cold medicine."

"Some do, actually," the grey-haired doctor informs, "but even if you've never taken those ones, anything can become addictive when taken too long. The body becomes dependent on the effects it has on it and the brain, and any emotional or psychological ties to it may make it very hard to quit."

"But he'll still be able to get a prescription?" she makes sure.

"We'll have to start at a lower dose," he answers, "but yes. I can get him one."

"Thank God," she breathes in relief.

Ben gives her a look, "Would you stop that? It's freaking me out."

"Someone mentioning God makes you nervous?" the doctor asks.

"No," Ben dismisses. "Hearing an atheist who's learned alternative language for common sayings thanking a God for a doctor's work is what freaks me out."

She folds her hands, "The police want to take you from us." and Ben frowns at her. "If I don't find you treatment for your physical and psychological issues by next week, they're going to charge both me and your father with negligence of a child and possibly abuse."

"But you didn't really do anything," Ben quietly defends.

"Precisely the point, isn't it?" she says. "I've done nothing but hide your conditions and needs from government documentation and other adults. I might as well be one of those religious extremists that keep their children homeschooled to brainwash them into odd beliefs."

"You didn't keep me from learning science," he counters.

"I've kept you from recognizing unhealthy relationships," she asserts with shining eyes, before she turns back to the doctor. "Can we get his prescription today?"

"You should be able to," he nods. "The prescription name is paracetamol." He eyes between them, "I'm going to start you out at a thousand milligram dose, which you can take twice a day with meals: breakfast and dinner."

"Does it have to be taken with meals?" he questions.

"Ben," Belle sighs.

"It's highly recommended," he answers. "One of the symptoms include stomach pain, along with nausea, loss of appetite, dark urine, clay colored stools, or yellowing of the skin or eyes. By taking it with a meal, if you experience any of these symptoms, you won't assume it's just because you took it without anything. If you experience these symptoms, I need you to take them serious enough to tell me."

Ben wets his lips, "I already experience half of those, just from the way I eat."

"He has a hard time with food," Belle frowns.

"I only eat once or twice a day," Ben corrects. "If I eat, I eat a lot, but I can go a long time without having anything."

"When you weighed in today, you were underweight," Dr. Roberts mentions, and Ben eyes away. "How has your eating been lately?"

"I'm nowhere near a hundred pounds," Ben ponders.

"For your height," he explains, "you should weigh no less than a hundred and twenty-five pounds. You're at a hundred and eighteen, which is fairly close to a hundred, if you ask me."

"You can see the spaces between his ribs," Belle divulges.

When the doctor looks at him, Ben excuses, "It's just because I lost muscle, and I bet if I still had that muscle, I'd way more too."

"If all you need to do is learn what nutrition you would need to keep muscle," he offers, "then I can point you to the nutritionists we have here."

"No," Ben shakes his head. "I'm not doing that."

"At least one of them should know what's needed for a carnivore," he reassures.

"I'm tired," Ben holds up a hand, "and I have to wake up for work in like five hours."

"You can meet them another day," he reasons, and Ben places a hand to his head.

"Could you just give me the information?" she asks.

He nods, "I can do that."

"Great," Ben's eyes widen. "Now, may I get my prescription, so I can leave?"

"I'm going to start you at a thousand milligrams twice a day," he continues. "When you're able to fully quit the cold medicine, we can discuss increasing it to three doses a day, if needed. Do not take any more than four doses a day or you risk an overdose."

"That it?" Ben hurries.

"One of the side effects is a fever," he looks from Ben to Belle. "If the medication fails to lower his temperature—or even seems to make it worse—he needs to stop taking it immediately and meet with me."

* * *

"You only have to worry about your fever twice a day, now," Ben's mother mentions. "You must be so relieved."

"If it works," Ben eyes out the tinted window. "If he's lowered the amount of doses because of the cold medicine, then that means I might have been taking it already."

"But this is more controlled," she reminds him, "and you won't have to worry about the side effects from overdosing on the cold medicine."

Ben frowns at her, "Why didn't you get me a prescription before, if you knew the risks of overdosing?"

"You've always had to take twice the amount of medicine for it to work," she simply answers. "I suppose I figured your body would just be able to better handle it." Ben looks away again, and she comments, "I'm going to make appointments for you on your next days off for a nutritionist, psychiatrist, and that dentist we were looking into."

"I'd rather not see a nutritionist," Ben tiredly replies.

"If you refuse, I'm going to have to tell the psychiatrist about it," she threatens.

"Mother," he faces her. "If I order a pizza after work, will you let this go?"

"I'll let it go when I see you taking your prescription with meals," she insists.

Ben nods, "Okay."

She takes a moment, "Do you need a donor?"

His eyes widen, "I'm not drinking from you."

"I just know you haven't lately," she starts, "and if you need one, we can try to find someone for you."

Ben glances down, "There's this guy I've been trying to proposition. He was really nice, and he smells like cookie dough, and I really want him." She keeps silent, and he sighs, shaking his head, "Say something."

She takes a breath, "What's his name?"

"Tyler," he partly smiles. "He gave me my last pizza."

"Ben." She hesitates, "Are you sure he wasn't just being nice, because you were a customer and the ruler of the country?"

"He didn't seem to mind," Ben's smile slips.

"Ben." She takes his hands, "Having passions is perfectly normal, but you need to think of the consequences. What if he considers it sexual? After Chad… you may get in trouble."

"But I want him," Ben relays.

"Just because you want something," Belle sadly expresses, "doesn't mean you should. It may not be good for you."

Ben pulls away from her, "Tyler's mine. I'm making him mine."

"And if he doesn't want to be yours?"

"He will." Ben pouts, "I want him, so he has to."

She takes a moment, "You don't want me anymore?"

"You're not mine," Ben points out. "You're Dad's. You belong to Father."

"I'm in charge of my own body," Belle dismisses. "If I want to donate to you, your father has no say in the matter."

Ben looks away from her, "I can't."

"Why ever not?"

"What if I hurt you?" he whispers.

"Then you hurt me," she accepts. "You're the most important thing in my life, Ben. I went through so much pain to have you, and I'm not going to risk losing you, just because I'm afraid of you hurting me to fulfill your needs."

"If I hurt you badly," Ben's eyes widen, "and I were left alone with Father, he would kill me. What you did would be for nothing."

"What if I told you I've told him," she supplies, "and he'd agreed that you need me?"

He takes a minute, "Father changes his mind after the fact. He would hurt me."

"Ben?" she maneuvers to see him. "Has something happened?"

He blankly looks at her, "What do you mean?"

"You're so afraid he'll hurt you," she concerns. "Why?"

Ben glances down, "Father is an angry, impulsive man." before he meets her brown eyes. "And I'm a young adult crushing on his wife, living in his home. Of course, I'm scared."

"You're his son, Ben," she reminds him. "He's not going to hurt you."

"Yeah, well," he eyes down, "it's never stopped him before."

"Ben," she starts again.

He faces her, "I want to plan a council meeting on one of my days off. I need to tell them about my hyperthermia."

She opens her mouth, before she lets the breath go, "If that's what you want."

"So, let me know when the therapy appointment is," he pinpoints, "and I'd like you to put off the dentist, until other things settle a little."

"What about the nutritionist?" she questions.

"I thought you said you'd let that go if I ate," Ben counters.

Belle nods, "I did say that, didn't I?" before she breathes. "Are you still thinking about asking Tyler?"

"I wouldn't be able to ask right away," Ben answers, "but I'd like to get there."

She nods, "Well, just be careful, and let me know how it goes."

Ben partially smiles, "I will."


	70. Promise

**Promise **

**(Wednesday Night, July 31****st****)**

Ben smiles when he opens the door, "Hey."

Tyler smiles in return, "The next time someone asks for my name, I'm lying. Because of you, I got called in on my night off."

He unsurely apologizes, "Sorry."

"I've got a large stuffed crust pizza with extra pepperoni, extra bacon bits, and extra cheese." He lifts the receipt, "Can I get a signature?"

Ben takes the pen, before he meets his forest green eyes, "Other than getting called in, how's your night going?"

"Well, you're the only order I actually have to take," he contemplates, "so it won't be that much longer."

"Does that mean you're free, then?" Ben grins.

"When you were asking for company before," Tyler inquires, "were you trying to ask for my blood?"

"I mean," Ben leans against the doorpost, "I wouldn't have turned that down."

"Is that why you ordered me?" he irritably replies. "You literally ordered me?"

"I mean, I'm not really in the mood tonight," Ben frowns. "My stomach hurts too much to be ingesting anything."

"Then why?"

"Well, I wanted to see you," he explains, before he eyes off. "And my mother said she'd get off my back if I ate something."

"Are you going to eat it?" he questions.

"Can't right now," Ben sighs, before he smiles at him. "Maybe I could try having a piece if you joined me?"

"You still need to sign it," he reminds him.

Ben places his signature on the receipt, and Tyler takes the copy before handing the pizza to him. Ben sets the pizza inside on the entrance table, before he turns back to him, "I know it might seem like I'd be able to get anything I want, but I was raised in a way where I learned not to really want anything." His frown deepens, "There's not a lot of things I want, but I want you."

"I have a girlfriend," Tyler informs.

Ben eyes over him, "Can you come closer?"

He takes a moment, "I don't think so."

"But I'm so open," Ben tries to smile.

He smirks at Ben leaning further back against the doorframe, "I see that."

"Please," he sadly says, and Tyler steps towards him. Ben moves his hand to Tyler's dark brown curls, "I love your hair."

"I'm not a homosexual," he makes clear.

"Neither am I," Ben whispers, as he stares at his neck, places his hands onto his arms, and moves into him. "You smell so nice. I really wish I could have you sometime."

"King Ben," Tyler unsurely replies, "are you a carnivore?"

"Technically," he admits, before he sucks on his neck once and scrapes his teeth against the skin.

Tyler hears the shaky breathing, before he feels the tears fall to his neck, "Your Highness?" He moves him away and notices his shut eyes and silent sobs, "Ben?"

"I don't know why I'm crying," he apologizes.

He pauses, "Is there something I can do?"

"Hold me?" he pleads, and after Tyler wraps his arms around him, Ben slowly sinks to the floor.

When Belle walks into the foyer, her mouth gapes, "What's going on here?"

"He just started crying," Tyler explains.

She hesitates, "You're going to want to move away from him."

When Tyler lets go, Ben grabs his arm, "No."

Belle strides toward them, "Ben."

"You can't make him leave." Ben defies, "He's mine."

"Ben," she tries to reason.

"He's mine," Ben repeats. "Why can't anything just be mine?"

Belle moves to his level, "Ben. You can't have a person."

"But I want him," he counters.

Belle sighs, before she notices her on the staircase, "Mal. Can you help us, please?" Mal moves towards them, and Belle stresses, "Explain to Ben why it is he can't own a human."

"Why not?" Mal evenly expresses, before she sees Belle's jaw drop. "Just kidding," Mal strains a smile, before she kneels, and it slips. "Right." She faces Ben, "Look. The reason why you don't need to own a human is because they're smart." She eyes off, "Well, smart-ish." before she meets his hazel-green eyes. "All you have to do is ask him to come back when you call on him, and he'll say yes."

"What if he doesn't come back," Ben sadly responds.

"I'll have to," Tyler inputs, "if you keep ordering me with your pizza."

"And you're king," Mal reminds him. "If he doesn't come, you have ways to find him."

Ben faces Tyler, "Promise I'll see you again."

"Promise," he frowns.

When Ben lets go, Belle stands, "You should get back to work."

Tyler makes it to his feet, "You're probably right." and she follows him to his car.

"I'm sorry about Ben's behavior," Belle apologizes. "He can get a little compulsively obsessive in certain situations."

"Is that it?" he faces her.

"If you were to ignore Ben's ordering of you," she slowly suggests, "I'm sure he would find someone else to obsess over—with the new school year starting soon and all."

"Isn't he like clinically depressed?" Tyler mentions. "I don't want to drop someone who's just trying to connect to the world and cling to the people they know."

"I'm getting him help for his depressive state," Belle reassures, "but don't mistake this for anything other than what it is."

"And what's that?" he frowns.

"Well, in full discloser," she evenly expresses, "he's a carnivore, and that makes him a predator. He's not clinging to you for a reason to remain alive. He's doing it, because you are his prey and he wants your blood."

"But he looked so hopeless," Tyler rebuttals. "There had to be more to it than that."

"Ben doesn't like being a carnivore, and he refuses to get a donor." She nods once, "But he still drinks blood, and he will unwittingly attack those closest to him to get it. He's ashamed of it, and he swears he can live without it; however, he continues to do it." Her eyes widen, "If I were you, I'd take every opportunity to avoid seeing him again."

"How can you say that?" he disbelieves. "You're his mother."

"I can say that," she counters, "because I married his father. I got the life of adventure I'd dreamed of, but I've grown very tired of it throughout the years. I'm too old for it." She warns, "It takes over your life. I know now that carnivores and humans were not meant to coexist."

"Then what's stopping you from leaving?" his eyebrows furrow.

"Well, that's simple," she folds her hands. "I love them." She calmly comments, "They may very well kill me one day, but I'd only have myself to blame."

"Well, now I'm definitely not leaving Ben alone," Tyler enforces.

"How old are you?" she inquires.

"Twenty-one."

"So, let me put it a different way," Belle challenges. "Stay away from my seventeen-year-old or I will alert the authorities."

"Ben's not a child," he gapes. "Talking to a high schooler isn't against the law."

"I can make it one," she frowns. "Officer, this man used his job to get into our home, and now he won't leave my son alone. I fear he may have sexual intentions."

He huffs, "If anything, Ben came onto me."

"He's just a hungry carnivore who doesn't know any better," Belle disproves. "You're the college student taking advantage of that."

"I study agriculture, not animal behavior," he furiously responds.

"You don't need to study animal behavior to blackmail the king," she points out, and he silences. "I don't want to see you with my son again. Am I clear?"

Tyler's eyes glower, "Yes, Your Highness."

* * *

"I still don't understand why I couldn't have him," Ben holds his legs to his chest.

"Because we're in Auradon," Mal easily answers. "Owning a human on the Isle wouldn't be a problem, so long as you had the power and authority."

"I didn't want to own him," Ben clarifies. "I just wanted to keep him."

Mal smiles at him, "You're so cute like this."

"I really wanted him," he says again.

"He didn't seem afraid of you," Mal replies. "I bet you'll hear from him again."

"I hope so." Ben frowns, "I miss him already." before he looks at her. "He smells like cookie dough."

"That sounds really good," Mal slightly nods.

"I bet he'd taste like chocolate chips," Ben continues, "but not with the sugar Carlos has, so I wouldn't feel sick after."

"That would have been nice," she sympathizes.

He shakes his head, "I should have just had him, but I didn't think I'd… joy it."

Mal takes a moment, "He said he'd come back. You'll get another chance."

When Ben sees his mother come back into the castle, he questions, "What happened?"

"It's not easy for me to say this." She faces him and hesitates, "Tyler's told me he'd rather not see you again, and if you try ordering him again, he will tell the police he considers it an attempted assault and get an order of protection."

"But he promised," Ben voices.

"And he's sorry about that," Belle addresses. "He just didn't think you'd let him leave if he didn't say that."

Mal turns to him and whispers, "Ben."

Ben cries, "But he promised." as he holds his stomach.

"I know," Belle frowns. "I'm sorry."

When he sobs, Mal hugs him, "It's okay. You'll find someone else."

"I didn't want anyone else," he heaves. "I wanted him. And he left. He lied and left."


	71. Predatory

**Predatory **

**(Thursday Midday, August 1****st****)**

Ben turns in his sleep, and the sheets cling to him. They're nice and warm, but they're wet. He jumps into the kneeling position, as he peeks under the thin blanket and then examines his pants. He's wet the bed. How does a high schooler—a king—wet the bed? He eyes around, before he sees the air freshener and goes to snatch the can. He sprays his bedding and the clothes he's wearing, before he hurries through his drawers, find a new outfit, and heads to the bathroom. He removes his clothes, but he still feels the pee stick to his skin. Ben steps into the shower and stares at the ceiling. He's going to have to do his own laundry, but he doesn't know how to do laundry. He doesn't even know where the laundry room is. He probably should; however, it must be someplace he's never wandered, and so he'd have no way to know how to even get there. Laundry is the maid's job. He has no business doing it, anyway. He takes a deep breath and then holds it in pain, as his hand finds the bruise on his stomach.

Ben feels the swollen skin, and he looks down at the blotch. It's gotten bigger. Did he sleep on his stomach and somehow make it worse? Normally, he heals faster when he doesn't eat. He should be getting better. Ben sighs. He'd better not be getting sick again. His immune system isn't worth the body its protecting. He steps out of the shower, runs a towel over himself, and puts on the new clothes. He uses the old shirt to pick up the soiled bottoms, before he hurries to the laundry basket and hides them in between the other clothes.

When he reenters the bedroom, he sighs at the sight of the bed. His sheets won't get changed until Monday. He eyes over it. The bed's large. He could try sleeping on the other side. Ben eyes down. He could sleep on the couch in the office, but what if it happens again? He hadn't used the bathroom before bed, and he'd used that medicine to knock himself out. Maybe that was it, but it's not like he hadn't done that before now. The only way he can ever seem to sleep is if he's either feverishly upset or knocked out. There's been times when he'd been sick that he felt too weak to move, but he still managed to hold his bladder until the busting pressure was too much to bear. He'd never wet himself then. What kind of excuse could he have now?

Ben eyes over the bed again. He could go to the store and get a new set of sheets with a new blanket. He'll put these ones in a garbage bag and set it against his laundry basket, and if anyone asks why he changed the sheets, he can just say he got tired of looking at them. He pulls out his phone and texts Travis, before he heads for the main floor and waits by the door.

* * *

"Thank you for coming at such short notice," Ben partly smiles, as King Phillip and Queen Rapunzel enter the castle. He watches as they head to the boardroom, and when Ben looks back outside, he sees King Charming step out of his car. He waits for Charming to enter the castle, before he shuts the door.

"Good afternoon," he solemnly says.

"Afternoon," Ben manages.

"Ben," he addresses. "How are you doing?"

"Fine," he frowns.

"Your text to Chad was worrying," he mentions.

"Sorry about that," Ben glances down.

"Don't apologize," he dismisses. "Just tell me what happened."

"What happened?" Ben thinks, "Well, the police showed up, so that was fun." Charming's expression fails to change, and he shakes his head, "I figured you called them."

"Ben," he starts, but the knock on the door interrupts him.

Ben moves past him and opens it, "King Florian. Thank you for coming." before he faces Charming again. "We were just about to start the meeting."

After Ben gets Sultan Aladdin on the screen, he adjusts the position of the laptop, "Can you see us alright?"

"Yes," he nods. "Thank you."

"Thank you for meeting us," Ben tries to smile. "I know you were just in town, and I feel bad that I didn't make this a time you could come in person."

"It's fine," he reassures.

"Right," Ben's frown deepens. "So, I have some news that I should have given to you after I got crowned, and I don't want to keep it from you anymore." He takes a breath and holds his abdominal, as he shuts his eyes. "Some of you might already know this." He eyes over them, "But if you don't, then you should know that I a medical condition."

"Your depression," King Florian assumes.

"Something a little more worse than that, if you believe it," Ben unsurely answers, before he faces them again. "I have hyperthermia, a high body temperature. I've had it my whole life, and the odds of me dying from it at some point is pretty good."

"You're old enough to get a prescription without your parents' knowledge," King Phillip inputs. "You can't just rely on cold medicine and aspirin."

"I do have a prescription now," Ben quietly combats, "but that keeps me from brain damage now. That doesn't keep me from a deadly temperature when I'm sick." The table somehow quiets more, and Ben shakes his head, "I'm sorry that I didn't tell you, but I wasn't able to tell anyone." He informs, "My father worries about me keeping my title and… job. I don't know what he would do, as soon as he finds out I've told you."

"No one else needs to know," Charming supports, before he looks over the others and they nod in agreement.

Ben continues, "I want to tell the public at some point, but not now."

"How bad does it get?" Aladdin wonders.

"I should have a hospital room with my name on it," he half jokes. "I get a check up every month, and I'm hospitalized pretty much every season."

"When was the last time you were hospitalized?" Charming asks.

Ben wets his lips, "The last time?" before he scratches the back of his head. "If I remember… I don't think the last time was from fever." He folds his hands onto the table, "I think it was from when I… I fell, and…" He shakes his head, "Anyway, that was at the end of the last school year, and it was short. They stapled my head shut, and I went home."

"They didn't keep you for observation?" Rapunzel interrogates.

Ben stares at her, "I wanted to go home. My parents told them they should let me."

"They're supposed to make sure you stay awake for twenty-four hours," she counters.

"That's not recommended anymore," Charming comments. "They only keep someone awake if the symptoms are serious or the person can't hold conversation."

"An injury that serious, they should have been monitoring him," she rebuttals.

"Why are we fighting about my health?" Ben interrupts, and everyone faces him. "I'm going to die. Why are you so worried about the ifs, when there's a when?"

After a moment, Charming starts, "Ben."

"You know." Ben runs his hands over the table, "I think this is a good time for a break." before he glances over everyone. "So, if you want to talk, talk. If you want eat, eat. I'm going to use the bathroom."

After Ben gets up and heads for the door, Charming follows him into the foyer. He catches up with him, "Ben. King Ben. I'd really like to talk to you for a minute."

He turns to him, "I meant it when I said I had to use the bathroom."

"Just a second," he reassures, and Ben gives a look. "I'm sorry. That was supposed to be your moment to let everything off your chest, and instead we argued over you."

"My mother apologizes for my father all the time," Ben inputs. "I don't like it when she does it, and I don't like it when you do it. Don't apologize for Rapunzel, and don't apologize for Chad. I don't appreciate people putting words in others' mouths."

"Of course," Charming accepts.

Ben sighs, "What's your question? I know you have one."

"I would really like to just know what happened after Chad's interview."

Ben feels the leak, his eyes widen, and he hurries to the bathroom. He should be able to stop—to hold it—but he can't, and when he enters a stall, he realizes the mess that would be made if he took it out. It's too late. He feels his pants soak, and he sees the excess pee drip to the floor. His eyes water, and he rubs the tears away.

The bathroom door opens and King Charming stands in front of his stall, "Ben?" He fails to answer, and Charming unsurely inquires, "Are you okay?"

Ben speaks through a held breath, "No." and he starts to shake. "I… I waited too long."

Charming contemplates, "You told me. I should have waited to speak with you."

"It's not you," his pitch raises as he whispers. "It happened earlier when I was asleep." A moment passes, and he breaks, "I've never had this problem before."

"There could be a medical issue. Maybe the new medication?" he speculates.

"That wasn't one of the side effects."

"Ben." He hesitates, "I know you don't like going to the hospital."

"But I have to," he sniffles.

"I can drive you," Charming offers, "being your emergency contact and all."

"I have to finish the meeting first," Ben's voice strengthens. "Could you, maybe, get me a change of pants from my room?"

"Of course," he accepts.

"And make sure they're black," he remembers. "I don't want them to question it."

"Anything else?"

"A towel?" Ben answers.

"I'll be back momentarily," he reassures, before Charming leaves and Ben places a hand to his head.

He takes his phone from his shirt pocket and calls the hospital. He lets the automated message run, until he's directed to someone, "Yes. This is Ben Florian. Is Dr. Roberts available today?"

"Let me check," she answers, and Ben waits a minute. "Our earliest appointment is tomorrow morning at nine fifteen." That's over twelve hours. If he's been having to use the bathroom every two hours, then he's bound to have another accident before then. "King Ben?"

"I was hoping it would be sooner," he admits. "I've been having some inconvenient symptoms, and I'm wondering whether it's related to my new medication or not."

She pauses, "Let me see if I can reach him." before she switches the line. Ben waits, and he listens for any other sounds. Charming should probably be back by now. He really hopes no one else decides to use the bathroom right now. He's not even sure how he'd explain himself to his doctor. "King Ben. Are you still there?"

"Yes," he prompts.

"Dr. Roberts said he can make room for you at five thirty."

"That would be really great," Ben breathes in relief.

"I will confirm it," she says. "Will there be anything else today?"

"No. Thank you."

"Have a good day."

"You too," Ben replies, before the call ends and he places the phone back into his pocket.

* * *

After Charming finds the black pants and underwear, Belle comments, "Charming." He turns to her, and her eyebrows raise, "What are you doing in here?"

"Ben just asked for some spare clothes," he reassures.

She eyes the pants, "What's happened?"

"He's having some bladder issues," Charming comments. "I'm taking him to the hospital after the meeting." She nods, and he asks, "Would you like to come with us?"

She smiles, "That's very kind of you." before her expression falters.

"Belle?"

She shakes her head, "I haven't check on Adam." before she starts to turn.

"Wait," he protests, and she faces him again. "You're coming, aren't you?"

"I don't know, yet," she flusters.

"Your son could be having serious health issues," Charming asserts.

"Ben's always having serious health issues," she counters.

He pauses, "I see."

"I want to be there for him," she defends.

"Then be there," his eyes widen.

"I can't exactly leave the castle if Adam doesn't want me to, can I?" Belle pinpoints, and Charming quiets. "Adam gets sensitive and defensive. If I try to leave without his permission, he will take it personally. Believe me, that wouldn't be good for me nor Ben."

"Belle," he shakes his head. "What's going on here?"

"I don't know what you mean," she passes.

"It's not normal to be afraid of your husband," Charming counters.

"I'm not afraid of him," she insists.

"Then why can't you leave of your own God-given free will?" he persists.

She frowns, "I'm sure your Bible would agree that as the woman of the household, it's my duty to take care of my family's wellbeing. I cannot leave Adam alone, if he's unwell. If he's doing good, then great. I'll leave with you; however, if Adam needs me, you're already taking care of Ben, and I have full confidence that he will get the care he needs, regardless of whether I can be by his side or not."

"He loves you," Charming starts.

"I'm well aware," Belle replies.

"So, you can't just abandon him," he opinionates. "You know how much damage that must be doing to his mind?"

"Ben was the one that set boundaries."

"But that doesn't mean you take away your love," Charming continues. "He needs you. You're his mother. No one can replace you."

"Ben doesn't want a mother," her eyes widen, and Charming waits. "What he wants is someone he can ogle, use, and sink his teeth into whenever he wants." She tears up, "And I know it would probably be better if I just let that be me, but I don't want to do it."

Charming places a hand to her shoulder, "Belle. I know Ben wants to respect your wishes. That's probably why he made those boundaries."

"But that poor pizza boy," Belle quietly cries. "Ben ordered him specifically, so he could have him. He was just so insistent that this human had to be his, and Mal was no help either. Of course, her mother had a human she could have sex with or drink from whenever she wanted, so why shouldn't Ben?"

"Hey," Charming softly says, as he put his other hand onto her arm.

"My home is filled with predators," she whispers. "three of which are carnivores, and I'm the only human here."

"Isn't Jay human?" he reminds her.

"Jay's a confirmed sociopath," Belle smiles in stress. "He only behaves, because Mal tells him to."

"And you don't trust her," he understands.

"I don't trust her instincts," Belle corrects. "You know Ben has always had a very kind heart and understanding personality, but he's still done some very predatory things."

"He probably just needs a donor," Charming comments. "Maybe a sexual outlet, if that's a concern." He pauses, "But a person's instinct is based on their survival. If Ben is surviving, there's no reason he should feel the need to do these things."

"Ben doesn't want a donor," Belle informs, "and he broke up with his girlfriend."

"As a parent," Charming slowly explains, "it's your job to make food available for your children. You can't make them eat it, but if it's around, they'll think about it."

"You're suggesting that I get Ben a donor without his permission?"

"I'm suggesting you give him permission to eat," he frowns. "It can't be easy for Ben either. As a carnivore, he's always surrounded by food, but the law says he can't have it."

"Ben would have to sign a donor contract." She explains, "He won't do that."

"Then find a donor outside the constraints of the law," he solves.

"You think I should break the law?"

"You've broken the law when it came to Ben before," he points out. "If you're going to do it, it should be for something that benefits him. Like this."

"Ben has no control when it comes to blood," she whimpers. "What if he hurts them?"

When Charming finds an answer, a voice erupts, "What's going on here?"

Charming notices Adam enter the room, and he removes his hands from Belle, "I'm taking Ben to the hospital after the council meeting. I was asking Belle if she wanted to join."

Adam's mouth cracks, as he eyes between the two, "Well, clearly, she's in no condition to go anywhere." He pierces his blue eyes at him, "So, leave her alone." Charming nods before heading for the door, and when he looks back, Adam places a hand to Belle's cheek. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she whispers, as tears leave her eyes. "Adam. I would like to go with Ben, be with him at the hospital."

He takes a moment, "No. You don't need the press to see you like this." before he moves some hair away from her face. She shakes, and he holds her close, "How about I get Mrs. Potts to make us some tea and cinnamon rolls?"

"I'm actually fairly hungry," she realizes.

* * *

When Charming reenters the bathrooms, he apologizes, "Sorry. Belle stopped me."

"Did you tell her?" Ben concerns.

He hands him the clothes and towel under the stall, "I told her you were having bladder issues and I will be taking you to the hospital."

Ben drops his wet clothes and uses the towel to wipe the excess from his skin, "What did she say?"

He hesitates, "Adam's not letting her come. He said she's not in the condition."

Ben puts on the new clothes, "I set an appointment for five thirty."

"Wouldn't the emergency room be more suited for this?" Charming counters, "A general practitioner isn't going to know everything."

"If it is my medication, he will know," Ben inputs, as he uses the towel to grab the clothes from the ground. He opens the stall door, "And anyway, an emergency room isn't going to know what to do with me. They're even more likely to kill me than my fever."

"And if you're right and it's not the medication?" he questions.

Ben eyes off, "Then maybe he'll say it's from the stress of being king and school starting in less than a month and having all my problems with no one to talk to."

"You know you can talk to me," he prompts.

"Not everything," Ben dismisses.

"Like the pizza boy?" his eyebrows raise. Ben shakes his head. For someone who wants to keep private matters within the family, his mother's growing annoyingly gossip-like. "I know that as a teenage carnivore—"

"Why does everything have to be about me being a carnivore?" Ben stresses. "Why can't I just be normal? A normal royal with a happy family and fair expectations?"

"I was just going to say," he frowns, "that I understand if you're experiencing desires to be close to certain people and want them in those ways."

"You're in my way," Ben points out. Charming moves, and Ben steps out of the stall, "I'm sure the council is hating me right now, so can you please manage them while I add these to my laundry?"

"Yes," he accepts.

"Thank you." Ben takes a deep breath and reaches for his stomach, as he heads out of the bathroom.

When Ben strides into the boardroom, he smiles, "You know what I love about meetings?" He sits in his seat. "All that matters is in here, so someone, please ask a question you might have."

"Did something happen?" Aladdin asks.

"That's out there," Ben points to the door, before he taps the table. "This is in here." The council stays quiet, and Ben lifts a hand. "Well? Come on. Your king's going to die. We don't know if it's in five months, twenty years, or next week. No one has any questions? I'm sure I gave you enough time to think it through."

"We've already discussed it," Phillip informs, and Ben settles. "Illness happens. It doesn't make you any less of a king, and we will help you in any way we can."

"Really?" he whispers.

"We all know someone with a medical condition," Florian agrees.

"If you're not letting it get in the way of your work," Rapunzel agrees, "there's no reason to vote you out of your seat."

Ben brings his fingers to the corners of his eyes, as he starts to cry, "Sorry." He shakes his head, "I've always been told…" before he opens his eyes. "That's really nice of you."

"What did you think would happen?" Charming questions.

"I don't know," Ben shakes his head. "My parents just—" He sniffles and tries to smile, "You know, I don't want to talk about my parents." before pointing to the door. "They're out there. I'm in here."

"That's okay," Charming accepts.

He's safe here, surrounded by everyone. Ben gulps, "Can someone pass me the lemonade? Please." Phillip reaches for the glass pitcher and passes it to him. "Thank you."

Ben's hand shakes, as he pours the pink drink into his glass, and Rapunzel inquires, "Is your medical condition what caused your depression?"

"No," Ben gulps, shaking his head. "You need more than one reason to want to die." He takes a minute, "I have a lot of reasons. I can't really say them right now."

"Are you eating enough?" Aladdin asks. "Your face looks thin."

"No." Ben's frown deepens, "I have a hard time, um, controlling how much I eat." before he lifts a shoulder. "It's easier just not to deal with it."

"A feast could do you some good right now," Florian inputs.

"I ordered a pizza yesterday," he evenly expresses, "but I've had a stomachache and I wasn't in a mood to eat it."

"Maybe the stomachache's from not eating," Aladdin suggests, and Ben eyes down.

Charming questions, "Did it start before or after your medication?"

"Before," he softly speaks. "Just a few days."

"You should tell the doctor about that," Charming opinionates.

"If there's time." Ben looks over the council, "I have an appointment later."

"But not about your stomachache?" Rapunzel assumes.

"I'd really like to not talk about it," Ben unsurely says. "It's not about the stomachache. It's not about the hyperthermia. What it is about is something that happened today, and I need to know why it happened."

"I'm still worried about your weight," Aladdin detours. "If your stomachache is causing you to further restrict your food intake, you need to take care of it so that you can eat."

Ben stares at the laptop screen, "What?" Charming rephrases in French, and Ben faces Aladdin. "Look. I know I'm underweight. My doctor told me, but I'm not that thin."

The room falls silent with gaped expressions, and Aladdin mentions, "You do realize my wife just got out of the feeding clinic?"

"What?" he frowns.

"Jasmine is anorexic," he divulges. "She just got home today."

"Is she better?" Ben takes interest.

"Honestly," Aladdin frustrates, "she's still very quiet, and I'm very worried."

"Sorry," he apologizes.

"This isn't about my wife," he dismisses. "This is about you. I can only see your face, and I can still tell you've lost weight."

"Yes," Ben irritably agrees. "I lost weight."

"You're underweight," Aladdin reminds him. "Are you unable to see that?"

"I have a friend who's anorexic," Ben frustrates. "I know what it looks like, and I don't look like her."

"Her?" Aladdin repeats. "Ben. You're not a girl. You're not going to look like her."

He darts up, stretches over to shut the laptop, and then sits to eye over the council, "Would anyone else like to talk about this?"

"He was just worried about you," Phillip reassures.

"I don't care," Ben stresses. "I'm tired of people telling me that the only things I want are the things I can't have." His eyes shift, and he places a hand to his forehead, "You know, I don't even know what I'm saying at this point. Can someone help me talk? Please."

After a minute, Florian questions, "If you aren't here one day, who's going to take your place to rule?"

Ben thumbs towards Charming, and he explains, "I would be acting as regent for Chad."

"Do you really think Prince Chad's equipped to rule an entire country?" Phillip concerns.

"Chad is a people person," Ben defends. "He will want to do what's best for them, and he will feel… responsible for them." He glances down, "That's more than I can say for me. Knowing that an entire country was counting on me didn't keep me from trying suicide." He faces them, "But Chad wouldn't leave them like that. So long as he has people counting on him, he would want to live for them."

"I know you didn't want to talk any more about your health," Rapunzel starts, "but are you still suicidal?"

"I don't know," Ben admits. "I did get a part-time job, and my boss is making me get, uh, grief council for my semi-deadly illness." He shakes his head, "She told me to make a list of things I wanted to do before I died." He thinks, "One of this week's was to tell all of you about this, and I did that." His frown deepens, "Another was to talk to Tyler, but I guess he doesn't want anything to do with me."

"Who's Tyler?" Phillip inquires.

Ben eyes down, "Just a guy." before he recalls his face and scent. "He brought the pizza I'd bought." No one speaks, and Ben continues, "It was new and nice, and now if I try talking to him again, he's going to call the police on me."

"For what?" Rapunzel responds.

"Well," Ben hesitates, "I've been lacking companionship, and I didn't think he really cared… but I broke down, and I guess I came on a little strong? I don't know."

"He would be turning you in for attempted assault," she assumes.

"You're king," Florian mentions. "Your word will mean more than his."

"I have a history of assaulting my girlfriends and close friends," Ben counters. "I've said it on camera. It's my word against my word. His just adds to it."

"You said girlfriends," Phillip points out.

Ben quiets, "Yes."

Phillip pauses, "May I ask about my daughter?"

"Audrey," Ben starts. "I might have threatened her once or twice. There were a lot of times I dismissed her thoughts or feelings, because she was trying to get me talk about mine." He wets his lips, "One time I was going to do something really bad, but my mother stopped me." The council observes Phillip's quietness, and Ben reassures, "It wasn't sexual… Actually, she might have felt it was, but it's not what I was doing." He continues to stare at the table, and Ben apologizes, "I really am sorry."

Phillip faces him, "Prince Chad said in his interview that it doesn't matter if you're sorry, you're still going to do it again."

Ben pauses, "He's right. When I'm upset and there's someone I like, I turn to them to feel better. And because I'm upset, I'm not thinking about how they feel."

He tears up, "Did you threaten her not to tell me?"

"No," Ben's frown deepens. "Audrey is just that nice, where she was afraid that if she told you and Aurora that you'd talk to my father." He pauses, "She was scared of what would happen to me, if she told you."

"She was scared for you?" he repeats.

"Yes," he simply says.

"You hurt her," he stresses. "She should have come to us."

Ben observes his sadness, "I agree. I don't care what would have happened to me. I would have deserved it, and she deserved to be able to tell you."

* * *

-**Posted**: 01/13/2020


	72. Accident

**Accident **

**(Thursday Afternoon, August 1****st****)**

"You know," Dr. Roberts comments, "I'm better able to prepare for a medical evaluation if I'm able to study the subject matter beforehand."

"Yeah," Ben acknowledges. "I'm sorry. It was just too embarrassing to tell anyone else."

"What seems to be the problem?" he inquires.

When Ben fails to speak, Charming informs, "He's starting to have a hard time holding his bladder for as long as he's used to."

Ben folds his hands, "There's been a couple accidents."

"Well," the doctor addresses, "you'll be glad to hear you're too young to be at risk for prostate cancer. Even the rarest cases of younger men are only in their mid-thirties. You're nearly a decade younger, which makes it highly unlikely."

"It's not the medication," Ben addresses.

"Different people react differently," he answers, "but no. It's not a known side effect." Ben doesn't respond, and he questions, "Have you been experiencing any burning or pain with urination?"

"Um," he tries to recall.

"Why don't you lay down?" Dr. Roberts suggests. "I want to see if you feel any tenderness." Ben moves over to the exam table, and after he lightly presses his abdomen, Ben winces. "It feels like there could be inflammation," he informs. "I need to see it."

After Ben's shirt is moved up, he sees his sudden concern, "Right. I have a bruise."

Charming stands from his seat, "God, Ben."

"How long have you had this for?" the doctor asks.

Ben wets his lips, "Almost a week. I thought it would heal, but it's been getting worse."

"And you didn't think to mention this?" Dr. Roberts questions.

Ben takes a moment, "I was hoping it wasn't the problem."

"And when did your bladder issues start?"

He mumbles, "A day or two ago."

"I'm going to need to bring another doctor into this."

"What?" Ben leans up. "No."

"Bruises are caused by bleeds," Dr. Roberts seriously says. "Yours has not stopped, and now it's putting pressure on your other organs." Ben's frown deepens, and he continues, "If I'm right, you're going to need surgery." Ben lays back down, and the doctor inquires, "Can you tell me how you got this?"

Ben stares up at the blinding light, and Charming questions, "Did your father do this?" Tears escape his eyes, and as he shakily breathes, he places a hand over the pain of his stomach.

* * *

Ben watches the three doctors talk in front of him, as they hold up a simulation of the procedure. Their expressions are grim and serious. How much longer would he have had to wait for this to kill him? He glances over them. They must all be thinking the same thing his doctor thought: who would have close enough access to the king to do this, and why wouldn't he have gotten help before now? The answer is obvious. King Beast ruled the land with an iron fist and brough the lands together with threats, but he wouldn't do that to his own son. Would he? "Ben?" he hears his name, and his attention is brought back to them.

"Sure," he answers, and after he notices their confused expressions, he turns to Charming and asks in French, "How long is this going to take?"

The blond surgeon answers, "Given the seriousness of the injury, surgery will be scheduled for a few hours from now. You will need to abstain from food and drink until then, and you will be monitored for at least two days afterwards. Given your status and the injury, we may want to keep you for a week."

"And the recovery?" Ben inquires. "What should I expect?"

"Because the hematoma has been pushing against your bladder and digestive tract," she informs, "tubes will be placed to directly collect urine and offer nutrients."

"So, I can't eat anything after surgery?" Ben's brows raise.

"We would start with an IV of electrolytes," she explains, "and then either use a feeding tube or continue with soft foods like ice cream or gelatin."

"Don't feeding tubes hurt?" he worries.

"If you fight it," she acknowledges. "It's easier with focused breathing. You can think of it like getting a shot."

"I don't like shots."

She takes a moment, "If the injury isn't as bad as it appears, you might not even need to worry about it."

The male doctor next to her says something, and Ben brows furrow, "Pardon?"

She translates, "You will be meeting with someone before surgery to discuss different anesthesia for you to sleep during surgery." The other doctor looks at her, and she hands him the clipboard, pointing to something on the first page.

"What's going on?" Ben asks.

She answers, "I was showing him your preferred language is listed as French. I understand that someone in pain might have a harder time concentrating and understanding medical terms of a different language."

Ben takes a moment, "Thank you."

She nods, "Do you have any other questions?"

"No," Ben scratches the back of his head. "I think that's all."

* * *

After Ben's moved into a recovery room, the surgeon says, "Visiting hours will be ending shortly, but we will allow you to stay until he wakes up."

"Thank you," Charming comments.

She informs, "When we examined him, the injury did meet our expectations. We will be using a feeding tube to reduce the risk of a rupture occurring. It may be a few days, so we recommend a gastric tube, which would require another surgery." She reassures, "It would be mild. He would be given a pain killer and a numbing spray for the throat, but he will be able to stay awake. He should feel no pain."

"What exactly is in a feeding tube?" he questions.

"It contains one thousand and five hundred calories of vitamins, minerals, carbohydrates, fats, and proteins you would need in a day." She notices his concern, "Is something wrong?"

"He wouldn't want me to say anything," Charming comments.

"If it's relevant to his medical needs," she advises, "you should tell me."

He faces her, "Ben's a carnivore. Does that make a difference?"

She deeply frowns, "His chart doesn't list him as a carnivore."

"Does it make a difference?" he asks again.

She takes a moment, "I believe there's a high protein option for the feeding tube."

"But?"

She hesitates, "The science behind a carnivore's needs aren't well-studied, and King Ben is already underweight. I will have to address this with the others to find a solution." Charming nods, and she asks, "Is there a chance that Ben might deny the feeding tube?"

Charming takes a moment, "I don't know if he would deny liquids. He's just been really stressed about some things."

"If he does deny it," she warns, "you and Belle will have to sign against his wishes as his emergency contacts."

He sighs, "She can't leave the castle right now. She says Adam's not doing well."

She takes a minute, "Someone between the ages of sixteen and twenty-one can only have their wishes overruled if both emergency contacts agree it's in his best interest."

"What do you normally do in situations where the parents can't be contacted?"

"Ben's over sixteen," she reminds him. "In the eyes of the law, he's old enough to take on his own medical needs."

"Seventeen is hardly old enough for someone to know themselves that well," he debates.

"The law exists for people like him," she sternly remarks. "When the parents are too busy to take care of their kid or the siblings decide to take charge, those kids can still get the help they need. However, if you're that worried Ben may deny the tube, then you need to get his mother here to sign the paperwork."

Charming softly states, "I don't know if it's safe for her to leave."

The blond doctor settles, "Then I hope King Ben respects your word enough to make the decision for himself."

* * *

When Belle answers the door, she sees the two officers, "Well. Morning."

Rinehart frowns, "Are you aware your son is in the hospital right now?"

She slowly nods, "Yes."

Kolinski comments, "We're here to offer you safe passage." Belle looks over her shoulder. "You're worried about what will happen when he finds out you left."

She faces him and whispers, "This is my home. What happens when I come back?"

"We understand." The brown-haired officer offers, "But we've made arrangement to post someone here, should you find it necessary."

"I'm in no danger," Belle denies.

"We're not asking," Kolinski asserts.

After a moment, Rinehart informs, "You will have the security detail, until we no longer find it necessary. The only question is whether you want it inside or outside the gate."

"Inside," she quietly answers, and they nod. "You said you could take me to my son?"

"This way," he instructs, and they guide her to the car.

* * *

"Ben," Belle sadly smiles, before he looks at her, and she takes the seat next to him. "How are you?" She swipes the hair from his eyes, "Are you okay?"

He stares ahead, "Don't touch me."

She removes her hand from him, "Honey."

"And don't call me that," he stresses.

"I just want to know you're okay."

He faces her, "Since when do you care?" before he looks away from her, and a nurse enters the room.

She addresses, "King Ben." and he looks at her. "We're ready to administer the feeding tube."

Ben looks back at his mother before facing the nurse, "I don't want it."

"Ben," Belle whispers, "don't be foolish. You need the calories."

Ben straightens, as he partly smiles at the nurse, "I don't want to do it. Thank you."

She nods before widening her eyes at Belle, "Your Highness. May I speak with you in the hall, please?"

Belle stands from the chair and follows her out of the room, "I don't know why he's doing this." The nurse hands her the clipboard. "What's this?"

"It's to wave your son's decision," she informs.

She sees the other signature, "Charming already signed."

"We need yours to proceed," she encourages.

"This would just be for this time?" Belle makes sure. "We're not taking his rights?"

"It would be in regard to his current medical situation," she states. "As soon as the hospital releases him, this document becomes null and void."

Belle takes the pen and signs, "He normally sleeps in the morning. Wait until after he wakes up to do it, please."

She nods, "We can do that."

* * *

After his mother leaves the room, Ben sees the officers, "Nice to see you again."

Officer Rinehart informs, "It's hospital policy to report any suspicious injuries. Would you like to tell us how you got yours?"

Ben eyes off, "It was an accident."

"An accident?" Kolinski doubts.

It's not like his father wanted to hospitalize him. "Yes," he confirms. "An accident."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 02/22/2020


	73. Painless

**Painless **

**(Friday Afternoon, August 2****nd****)**

When they enter the room, Ben sits up, "Chad?"

He tries to smile; however, it soon slips, and they sit in the pair of chairs next to the hospital bed. Charming inquires, "Did you think more about the feeding tube?"

"Why would I need to," Ben points out, "when you and my mother can decide for me?"

Chad asks, "They made you do it?"

"If they did," he points out, "I'd have a bulky ass tube sticking out of my stomach. So, no." Ben murmurs, "And here I thought all I had to do to avoid such excruciating pain was just to not end up in some feeding clinic."

"They said it should be painless," Charming frowns.

"And I've seen enough films to know that's not true," Ben rebuttals. "And they can give me whatever sedative or numbing agent they want. That doesn't mean it will work."

"You grew a tolerance to cold medicine," Charming recognizes, "but that doesn't mean other medicines won't work."

"You don't get it," Ben's eyes widen. "Cold medicine is the only pain medicine that's ever worked on me. I'm not trusting this will, just because some human doctor says so."

"You're starting to sound like Mal," Chad inputs.

"I think I'm sounding like someone who ends up in worse condition once they leave the hospital than when they get there," he argues. "Every stupid time I come here a doctor tries to kill me or I leave with a cold." Ben grins, "In-and-out every frickin' month of every fucking year. I tell the staff I live here, and they laugh."

"Ben." Chad says, "It's okay." and Ben's expression slips.

He awkwardly smiles, "What are you talking about?"

He shrugs, "Well, it's okay to be upset." before he thinks. "Your life's been taken from you. I would be mad too."

Ben whispers, "I'm not mad." before he lowers his head. "And since when do you take philosophy?" Chad fails to answer, and his mouth drops, "Wait. Is that… Did I make you feel like that, that your life was taken?"

Chad frowns at him and carefully answers, "Someone I trusted took advantage of me on a deep, personal level. That kind of thing can change a person."

"I'm sorry," Ben apologizes.

"I don't blame you," Chad informs.

"There's no excuse for what I did."

"Ben," Chad asserts. "This isn't your fault." He eyes off and mutters, "I'm allowed to make mistakes too, you know."

"You couldn't have done anything," Ben rejects.

"Cause and effect." Chad meets his green hazel eyes, "Every action has an equal and opposite reaction." He eyes down, "There's plenty I could have done."

Ben shakes his head, "I don't understand."

"Yes," Charming inputs. "Neither do I."

Chad glances at his father before facing Ben, "I could have said no to you the first time." and then looks past him. "I could have given you space. I could have relied less."

"Since when do you rely on me?" Ben counters.

He shakes his head, "Point is I could have done something."

"You couldn't have known it was going to happen," his father reminds him.

"Excuse me," a nurse interrupts.

"You said I had an hour," Ben complains.

"You do," she reassures, before she looks at him, "King Charming, may you join us, please?"

"What's going on?" Ben's eyes widen.

Charming turns to Chad, "Are you alright being alone with him?"

Chad eyes from Ben to his dad, "He's not biting anyone."

He stands from the chair and meets Ben's eyes, "I will be back."

After they leave, Ben gapes at Chad, "Since when do patients not have the right to know what's wrong with them?"

He shrugs, "Maybe it's not about you."

"Then what?" he irritably replies.

Chad suggests, "Maybe your father doesn't like he's not a contact anymore."

"And Charming is," Ben realizes, before he bites his lip.

* * *

"What's this about?" Belle says from the chair, once Charming enters the room.

He sits next to her, as he observes the doctors in front of them, "What happened?"

The blond surgeon questions, "What kind of carnivore is Ben, exactly?"

"Who told you that?" Belle questions.

"I did," Charming comments. "I wanted to know if the feeding tube was actually going to help Ben."

She settles before facing the doctors, "He's whatever his father is. Why?"

"Well, when it comes to major surgery, blood transfusions can be required," the blond explains. "Ben's procedure to take care of his internal bleeding required that."

The other doctor mentions, "If Ben is a carnivore, then he might have genetic markers a human doesn't have."

"Are you saying he could reject the transfusion?" Charming frowns.

"If it's viral related," he answers, "as in the acuti virus, then he should be fine; however, if the base of his genetic makeup is different, we could see a reaction."

Belle straightens, her voice hurt, "What kind of reaction?"

"In most cases," he supplies, "it looks like a bad cold with fever, chills, and dizziness,"

The blond adds, "Possibly dark urine, back pain, or shortness of breath."

"Could he die?" Charming worries.

"The blood type is still the same," she informs. "That kind of risk is very low."

"But he already has hyperthermia." Belle concludes, "He can't get a fever."

She whispers, "I'm sorry."

"It might not even happen," the other surgeon says. "We just need you to know what the signs are so that you can tell us when it happens."

"When," Belle notices.

Charming faces them, "Is there a reason why you couldn't tell Ben this?"

"He doesn't need the stress," she answers.

"And," the male doctor adds, "when people are told they're at risk of certain symptoms, they're more likely to notice them. We want to make sure the symptoms aren't psychosomatic."

Belle takes a deep breath, "So, what's the treatment?"

The doctors look at each other, before he hesitates, "It's been too long since the transfusion to do anything. If his body rejects it, we have to wait for it to completely leave his system. The symptoms occur, because the body is fighting off a foreign agent; however, once it clears, the symptoms should subside too."

"And how long will that take?" Belle's voice strengthens.

She softly speaks, "It could take up to couple weeks." and Belle cries, hunching over with choked breaths. Charming rests a hand on her shoulder, and she hides her face in her hand.

* * *

"Has Mal visited you?" Chad asks.

"You want to know if I'm seeing her again," Ben interprets.

"Have you seen her?"

Ben takes a moment, "I think she feels guilty." before looking at him. "She saw the bruise, and she didn't tell anyone. And if not for your father, I might be dead now."

"She should have told someone," Chad opinionates.

Ben raises an eyebrow, "If I told you not to tell anyone, would you have?" Chad fails to answer, and Ben reaches for his phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Sending Mal a text," he answers. "I need to make sure she's not… well, you know."

"No," Chad counters. "I don't."

Ben frowns at him, "I need to make sure she's not going to kill herself." Chad stares, and Ben faces the phone again. "I should just ask Evie how she is. She'll know."

"Evie's Mal's girlfriend," Chad states.

"And?"

"And you two, like, talk and stuff," he assumes.

Ben nods, "Yes. We talk and stuff."

Chad's mouth hangs open, "Why?"

"Why what?" Ben nervously laughs.

"You like Mal," Chad pinpoints.

"Yes, Chad," he frustrates. "I still love Mal."

"And Evie loves Mal?" he checks.

"Yes," he tiredly says.

"So, you two are competition," Chad concludes.

"What? No," Ben denies, before he falters. "I mean… It doesn't really feel like competition."

"Didn't all of those VKs have to fight just to survive?" he speculates. "How do you not think it's a competition?"

"Because," Ben flusters. "We talk. We have things in common."

"You have things in common," he repeats, "and that suddenly makes you friends?"

"We are friends."

Chad shakes his head, "Whatever."

When Charming walks back into the room, Ben sits up, "What happened?"

He sits back in his seat, "They just wanted to explain how withholding important information from them could be dangerous."

"Dangerous?" Ben inquires.

"Like you being a carnivore," he explains. "Knowing that changes things."

"What do you mean?"

He pauses, "That's not important right now."

Ben glances at the door, "Where's Mother?"

"Adam's been calling," he frowns, and Ben eyes down. "She's being escorted back to the castle by the officers."

"Father's not going to like this," Ben opinionates.

"She's going to have police detail," Charming informs. "She's safe." Ben quiets, and he asks, "Why don't you tell the police about this so that they have something to use?"

"There's nothing to tell," Ben reiterates.

Charming frowns, "Ben. I know your father did this, but you need to say it." Ben doesn't speak, and he continues, "All of this can stop, if only you come forward."

Ben stares forward, and Chad comments, "You could do it for your mom."

"She's not going to be mad if you say anything," Charming reassures. "She's far more worried about you."

"Ben?" Chad bends over to examine his blank expression, before he waves a hand in front of his face.

"Chad," his father shouts, and Chad drops his arm, backing against his seat. He sternly eyes him, before he notices Ben's tense composure. "I'm sorry. I just need him to keep your space in mind, given the circumstances.

"It's fine," Ben whispers.

"Ready?" a doctor says, as she enters the room. Ben nods, and she heads over to hang up a bag and clean an area on his arm.

Chad watches her stick the needle into it, "What is that?"

"A pain killer," she answers.

"Morphine?" Chad assumes.

"I thought this was a basic procedure," Charming comments.

"It is." She turns to him, "But Ben didn't respond well to the sedative in his previous surgery. He can be awake for this one, but a mild pain killer won't be enough."

"When I take medicine, I have to take twice as much," Ben inputs, and she looks at him. "Is this going to be enough?"

"Have you ever used morphine before?" she asks.

Ben glances at Chad, before he unsurely says, "I'm not sure, really."

"Well, assuming you haven't," she answers, "you shouldn't have a tolerance to it."

"Hold on." Charming questions, "What happened in his other surgery?"

She faces him, "He started to wake up towards the end of it. We had to give him more, but we don't want to give him that much again so soon—especially for something this simple."

"He uses stimulants to sleep," Chad informs.

Ben's jaw drops, "Chad. The fuck?"

"It could be related," he speculates. "Don't you want to know?"

The doctor looks at him, "What kind of stimulants?"

"Cold medicine," Ben furiously answers. "Just the thing I've been taking my entire shitty life so that I can continue living it."

"Nighttime or daytime?" she calmly asks.

"Nighttime's better," Ben answers, before he widens his eyes at Chad. "Which is meant to make you sleep."

"So, antihistamines are stimulants," she explains, "but oddly enough it's the same ingredient that makes people sleepy."

"So, it's not related?" Charming concludes.

"Not unless he has ADHD," she answers.

"He's OCD," Chad claims.

Ben narrows his eyes at him, "I'm not diagnosed with anything. You can't just say that."

"That doesn't make it any less of a problem," his brows raise.

Ben huffs, "If I was OCD, my room would be cleaner."

"So, you never obsess over people or projects?"

"No," Ben denies. Chad widens his eyes, grins, and shakes his head before standing from his seat. Ben watches him head for the door, "Wait. Where are you going?"

He turns towards him and walks backwards, "If you're not obsessed, I can leave."

"Chad. Stay," he irritably pleads.

"And watch this fucked up forced feeding they call bedside manners?" he sarcastically counters. "Uh, ugh. No way. I'm out."

After he leaves, Charming faces Ben, "I can talk to him."

Ben mutters, "You know what's best."

"I'm staying," he decides, and Ben silently eyes away.

"Alright," the doctor takes a deep breath, and their attention is brought to her. "Before we start the procedure, you will get a numbing agent sprayed in your mouth. This will help me guide the camera through your throat without your gag reflex getting triggered. Once I can see everything I need to, a small incision will be made to place the tube in the stomach."

"Does that mean there's going to be blood?" Ben unsurely asks.

She smiles, "Minimal, but you will be on your back. I suggest that you either keep your eyes closed or on the ceiling. There can be a disconnect in a person's mind when they see their own blood. Even if the procedure is lifesaving, their body can tell them they're in danger; however, if you move, that increases the risks."

"Don't look at the doctor cutting into me," Ben tensely expresses. "Got it."


	74. She Needs Help

**She Needs Help **

**(Friday Afternoon, August 2****nd****)**

"I still recommend that you let me contact someone more experienced in this area," Officer Kolinski comments.

Belle moves up the staircase, "We have history of government officials overreacting to the way we live. I'm not letting an officer in my home if he's trained to shoot first."

"What do I need to know?" he inquires.

Belle stops at the top of the stairs and turns to him, "If anything goes wrong, let me handle him. Adam's emotional intelligence isn't the best. You can't corner him every time he's having a hard time. If you do, it will make things worse."

Kolinski nods, "I'll do my best."

Belle turns down the hall, and Kolinski follows her into the dining room. Adam takes a drink from the chalice, "Talking about me?"

"Just informing Officer Kolinski of some house rules," Belle reassures.

"Ah. Yes." He recounts, "It's a beast. He's got fangs, massive paws, and razor claws. Bring your guns, bring your knives, to save your children and your wives."

"Adam," Belle softly speaks.

"Isn't that why he's here?" he disrupts. "To save you and Ben? Isn't that why he has that gun?" Adam spats.

"It's just part of the uniform," he reassures.

"Good," Adam erupts, "then I can express my limited emotions without being a dead man." He eyes to Belle, "Come on. Sit. Have a drink."

Belle laughs, "It's a little early, don't you think?"

"Not at all," Adam answers. "I'm still up from last night. Maybe a little wine is just what I need to get in a little daylight."

Belle sits across from him, "I suppose it has been a long morning."

Adam pours her a glass, "You better enjoy it. That dragon is hoarding the rest."

"Mal's drinking again?" she disbelieves.

"She relapsed last month," he reminds her. "You weren't expecting her to just get better, did you?"

"She was trying to." Belle touches the wine glass, before she stands from her seat. "Have you checked on her?"

"She doesn't like me," Adam inputs.

"It's alright," Belle turns from him. "I can do it." She passes Officer Kolinski, he follows her down the hall, and she knocks on the door. "Mal? It's me."

"She doesn't answer, either?" Kolinski notices.

Belle cracks open the door, "Mal?" before she sees the littered wine bottles. She opens the door wider, strides over to the bathroom, and gapes, "Mal." She finds a towel presses it to the cuts on Mal's stomach, "What are you thinking?"

"Can't be any worse than what Ben's feeling," she grins.

Belle sees the blood on her nails and commands, "Lay down on the bed."

"Not a fan of blood?" Mal notices.

"Not a fan of my son's girlfriend dying," she retorts.

Mal slowly shakes her head, "Not his girlfriend."

"Whatever the situation," Belle bypasses, "you need to lay down."

She nods to the officer, "And he gets to see me half naked."

Belle glances at him before sighing, "Where's your swimming shirt?"

"Top drawer."

Belle moves past the officer, before she opens the dresser. He follows her, "Should I call Emergency Services?"

Belle takes out the tie-dyed t-shirt and lifts a hand, "Just don't." before moving back to the bathroom. She pulls the shirt over Mal's head, taking her hair out, as Mal moves her arms through the holes. "Okay. Now, you can lay down." Mal moves past them, and Belle takes a bucket from underneath the sink.

Kolinski steps behind her, "She clearly isn't okay. Let me call ES."

"No," Belle stands and widens her eyes at him. "We just called ES on her last month, and guess what she did? She breathed fire and melted through her room. The only people who can't be hypnotized by her are witches."

"She needs help," he persists.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Belle whispers, before she fills the bucket with hot water and gets a cloth. "Grab the emergency kit for me, please." She walks into the bedroom, sits on the edge of the bed, and uses the damp cloth to wipe the blood from her stomach. She squeezes out the damp side, wets it again, and cleans the rest of Mal's cuts; however, a deeper cut continues to bleed.

"She needs stitches," Kolinski comments.

"Set the kit down," Belle requests.

He complies, watching her open it, "You're not doing it yourself."

"I've had to do it before," she informs, before she finds the needle and thread. "And scars are the least of her worries."

"The wonders of healing cream," Mal advertises.

Belle dips the needle in rubbing alcohol, before she cleans the area, "Ready?"

Mal stares at the ceiling, "Ready as ever."

Belle makes the first stitch, and Mal's eyes glow bright green. She commands, "Kolinski. Take her hand, please."

"Is that safe?"

"What about your job is safe?" she points out, before she looks at him. "You're welcome to give her a stress ball instead, if you have one." The officer moves to Mal's other side, offers his hand, and with the next stitch, Mal grips his hand.

When the officer cringes, Belle encourages, "Hang in there."

After a few more stitches, Adam peaks through the door, "Belle?" He steps inside, "What's going on?"

"She cut herself," Belle explains. She stops herself from making another stitch, cleans up the seeping blood, and examines Adam's uncomfortableness. "Can you go to the kitchen, see if you can get Mal a glass of milk and one of her pre-cooked bones?"

"Uh, yeah," he steps back. "Of course."

After he leaves, Kolinski questions, "You're having him get her a snack?"

"He needed permission to leave," Belle answers, before she continues stitching.

When Mal squeezes his hand, he takes a deep breath before asking, "Permission?"

Belle takes a moment, "I need to talk to him about that." before she makes the final stitch. "Okay. That should be good." Mal tries to sit up, but Belle presses on her shoulder, "Not yet. It will be easier for you to heal if you rest."

"I can't drink milk lying down," Mal mentions, before she takes the bottle of wine from the beside table.

"Mal," Belle frowns. "You can't drink that."

"Don't worry." She takes a sip, "It has a low water percentage."

Belle places the bucket between them, "Can you clean your nails for me?" Mal sets the bottle down, places her fingers into the water, and uses the rag to take the red from her nails. "Good. Your nail kit's in the bathroom, right?"

Mal murmurs, "When they cut my nails last time, it hurt a lot."

"You can do it yourself, if that makes you more comfortable," she suggests.

"It's in the small, purple bag," she confirms. Belle goes over to the bathroom, retrieves the bag, and goes back to hand it to Mal. She opens the bag, "If I stop cutting myself with my nails, will I stop losing my nail privileges?"

"You know," Belle sits back down, "Ben really didn't like it when your nails had been cut last time. He compared it to declawing a cat."

"Well, I would like to keep my nails," Mal opinionates.

"Are you worried Ben could hurt you again?"

Mal takes a moment, "It's not Ben. It's… I mean…"

"What Ben did reminded you of the what happened on the Isle," she understands.

"Yes," she whispers.

"What did Ben do?" the officer inquires.

Belle frowns at him, "You don't watch the news?"

"The news has a lot to say," he defends.

"Ben's admitted to his actions himself," Belle informs. "You could at least watch that."

"I've seen some of those." He explains, "A reminder would just be nice."

"It's why ES picked me up last time," Mal evenly expresses. "Ben had broken up with me, but then he like… I made him attack me somehow, but I clawed him so he wouldn't."

When Mal silences, Belle places a hand to her arm, "That was not your fault, just like this wasn't your fault."

"All I had to do was tell the truth," Mal stares at her. "I deserve to feel just as much pain as he is. It's because of me that he almost died."

"He almost died," Belle emphasizes, "because Adam can't express himself with words. You hear me? You did not put him in the hospital. He did. This is not your fault."

Adam softly speaks, "I got the milk." and Belle sadly looks at him. "The only bones left aren't cooked yet, but, uh, I think I remember her liking strawberries."

"Thank you, Adam," Belle replies.

He takes a moment, "Do you want to take it?"

Belle walks over to him and takes the items, "I'm sorry."

He frowns, "An officer isn't the first person I would tell our family problems to."

"I know," she acknowledges. "I wasn't thinking."

He eyes over her, "Take care of Mal. We can discuss everything at dinner."

"What do you mean, everything?" she notices.

"Well, you and Charming, of course."

Her jaw drops, eyes widened, "Adam."

"I'm too tired," he lifts a hand. "We'll discuss this later."

* * *

When Belle sits down at the dinner table, Adam fills his plate. She watches him take the roast beef, scalloped potatoes, and green beans. "Adam," she addresses.

"I know I haven't been the best man." He faces her, "But Charming?"

"There's nothing going on with Charming," she disbelieves.

"But what?" He counters, "Charming's Ben's emergency contact now? Because, I know I never got a call when he took Ben to the doctor."

"Ben made Charming his primary contact," Belle discloses. "I had nothing to do with it."

"And, I suppose, you've just been sitting with Ben the entire day?"

"Yes, actually," she grins.

"When he sleeps," Adam points out.

"Well, they have visiting hours," she informs. "What would you have me do, not see Ben at all?"

"If you weren't talking with Ben, then what were you doing?"

"Talking with Charming." Adam eyes away, and she finishes, "About Ben and his health. Adam. The only thing between Charming and me is the love we have for Ben."

He faces her, "You're saying I don't?"

"What I'm saying," Belle reinforces, "is that Charming has been there for Ben when we weren't, and if it weren't for him, Ben may very well be dead right now."

He shakes his head, "I want you out."

"Adam," she tries to reason.

"I said get out," he yells, before he stands and points to the staircase. "Now!"

Belle nods, before she moves her chair out and heads for the hall. She sees Kolinski, and he frowns, "He can't just kick you out."

"The castle is in his name," she whispers. "He can do what he pleases." She strides past him, and he follows her down the stairs.

"You're not even going to get a bag together?" he questions.

"He said 'leave now'," she evenly expresses, before she opens the cedar chest by the coat rack. "Which is why I'm prepared to leave now."

He watches her take the suitcase out, "How often does this happen?"

"Oh," she takes a deep breath. "Once in a blue moon." She takes a moment, "I normally stay at a hotel for a night or two, until he changes his mind, but he hasn't offered me any allowance recently."

"Do you have anyone you can call?"

"There's someone," she eyes down, "but it won't be easy."

"You should call," he recommends.

She takes a moment, "Can you just take me back to the hospital. I'd like to get an hour in with Ben before visiting hours end."

He nods, "I can do that."

* * *

When Belle makes it to the hospital, she sees Charming and Chad sitting on a bench in the hall. Charming sees her walk up to them and smiles, "How was dinner with Adam?"

She eyes down, "Well, uh."

Chad spots the suitcase, "He kicked her out again."

Charming frowns from the suitcase to her, "Belle?" She fails to respond, and he turns to Chad, "Wait. What do you mean, again?" Chad shrugs, and Charming sighs, "Did he kick you out before or after dinner?" She still doesn't speak, and he digs into the takeout bag, "Here." He hands her a sandwich, "It's chicken with mayo and lettuce."

"I asked for them to grill the chicken," Chad smiles, "but they gave me this look like 'you posh ass, we're deep-frying this shit'."

"The closest restaurant is across the street," Charming comments. "I honestly don't understand how the nurses here can actually recommend that place."

"Well, at least it's cooked," Belle settles.

Charming glances at the suitcase, "Do you have a place to stay for the night?"

"Dad," Chad complains.

"I'm just asking," he reassures.

Belle answers, "Lucinda's always said that I'm welcome to go to her, but I've barely even spoken to her in years."

"She would still help you," Charming reassures. "It's Fairy Godmother's job to help."

"I know," she acknowledges, "but I'm not ready to call her, yet."

He takes a moment, "Do you mind, why did Adam make you leave?" Belle glances at Chad, and Charming turns to him. "Are you done?"

"I probably should be," Chad agrees. "Yeah."

"Go keep Ben company," he suggests.

Chad eyes between them, "What? You have to be alone?"

"Chad," he sternly remarks, before Chad stands from his seat.

"Fine." He walks back to Ben's room, and Charming offers Belle a seat.

She sits next to him and hesitates, "Adam's been a bit jealous."

"How so?"

"Well," she folds her hands, "he's insecure about the way he's behaved, and he's become jealous of how close you've been to Ben and me." She pauses, "He kicked me out, because he assumes if Ben sleeps during the day, I must have been at the hospital to see you."

"He thinks you're having an affair with me?" Charming clarifies.

She nods, "You're a much better man than him, so I must have moved on to you."

"But I'm a married man," he reminds her.

"I don't think that matters," she dismisses. "Adam doesn't think that far ahead, and even if he has, it wouldn't be the first time two people cheated on their partners."

He sighs, "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," she reassures. "It's mine for leaving the castle."

"Your son's in the hospital," he points out. "You had to come here."

"You know," she sadly laughs, "I bet if it wasn't you, it would be Ben." She shakes her head, "If Ben came here on his own, I bet I would still get in trouble for checking on him."

"Why don't you just stay the night with us?" Charming offers.

Belle cautiously examines him, "You're serious."

"I'll be visiting Ben tomorrow," Charming comments. "If Adam changes his mind by then, you can go home. If not, we have until Ben's released to figure it out."

"And Ella?" she reminds him.

He takes a moment, "Your husband made you leave. She should be sympathetic to that."

"And if she's not?"

He hesitates, "The castle—sorry, palace—is a big place. I'm offering you a room, until she has a decent reason to say otherwise."

* * *

**Posted**: 03/18/2020


	75. All that Matters

**All that Matters **

**(Saturday Morning, August 3****rd****)**

When Belle's phone rings, she slides to the edge of the bed and takes it from the charger. She glances at the ID before answering, "Adam?"

"I'm sorry, Belle."

She pauses, "I know."

"Let me make it up to you," he pleads. "Come to the castle, and I will prove to you that I have complete faith in us."

"Have you even apologized to Ben?" Belle mentions. "For hospitalizing him."

A sad sound emits from his throat, "There's nothing I could say that could make up for the damage I've caused him."

"That's why you should be there," she protests. "If you're sorry, show him you are."

Adam takes a moment, "He won't want me there. It's better if I leave him alone for now." She glances down, and he says again, "Belle. I don't want you to leave me."

"I never did," she denies. "And I wouldn't cheat either."

"I know," he reassures. "Belle. I really am sorry. Please, come see me."

She checks the time, "It will have to wait until morning."

"Morning is perfect," he agrees. She silently nods, and he continues, "Belle. This is the last time. I promise."

"I'll see you later," she whispers, before she ends the call.

After Belle knocks on the door, Adam opens it, "Welcome home." His smile slips, as he sees the car behind her. "Charming."

Belle glances from the car to Adam, "He offered for me to stay at his place last night."

He cautiously comments, "That's very… kind of him."

"Yes," Belle nods. "I had my own room and everything."

He nods in return, before he opens the door, "Come in."

Adam moves up the stairs, and she follows him, "So, what's the surprise?"

After they enter the kitchen, he smiles at her, "I know you miss pancakes."

"Adam. This is…" She falters, opting to simply take a seat in front of the plate of whip cream and berry-topped pancakes.

"It's not bacon and eggs or, uh, biscuits and gravy," he smiles wider, but she still fails to respond. "I don't understand. I thought this would help… make you happier."

"Our son's in the hospital," she concerns.

"He's always in the hospital," he reminds her.

"It's a serious injury," she whispers.

"And he always gets better," he finishes.

Her eyes widen, "You need to apologize to him."

Adam takes a moment, "I feel he would find that stressful. Don't you?" She sighs, and he reassures, "I will make amends with Ben after he's better, but right now I'm making things better with you." She tiredly looks at him, and he explains, "This is your home. You shouldn't be getting kicked out, and you shouldn't need to feel the need to knock when you return."

"How do you plan on solving that?" she evenly expresses. He moves her plate out of the way to slide the platter forward, and when he lifts the lid, her jaw drops, "Adam. Is that—"

"The deed," he finishes, before he picks up the pen and offers it to her. "Sign your name under mine, I'll initial it, and then I will legally not be able to make you leave." Belle reaches for the pen, closes her hand, and pulls it back. Adam frowns, "Is something the matter?"

She shakes her head, "When you make me leave, you're always so ill with anger. What other options would you have, should I sign this?"

"I want you to know you have a place here," he justifies.

"You're sure of that now," she counters, "but what if you change your mind? If you think I've somehow betrayed you again and you want me gone, what would you do?"

His frown deepens, "Belle… No matter my anger, I would never kill you."

"You don't want to," she acknowledges, "but you never want to hurt anyone. It still happens, and with Ben—"

"Belle," he interrupts.

"You've lost control with him more than once," she continues. "If he were less like you, imagine whether he'd still be alive." She shakes her head, "If you lose your temper with me and an accident happens—"

"I won't let that happen," he asserts.

Belle places one hand on his and the other on the document, "Adam. For the sake of the life we live, I don't think I can sign this."

He stares down at it, "I just wanted you to be happy."

She places a hand to his cheek, "So long as I have you and Ben, that's all that matters."

* * *

"He really wants to see you," Charming comments.

Belle holds the phone closer to her ear, "I just got home."

"Belle," he tries to reason. "You mean a lot to him. You can't abandon him."

"I'll come tomorrow," she promises. "I just can't right now."

He takes a minute, "Ben would also like to see Mal."

"Oh." She unsurely says, "Mal's not well today."

"What do you mean?"

"She's being a little eccentric today," Belle settles.

"Eccentric?" he repeats.

"She had a total breakdown," Belle sighs. "She's been drinking and cutting and being all loose." She hesitates, "She doesn't need to be seen like this."

"You're worried what people will think," he realizes.

"She doesn't need the ridicule," she defends.

Charming enforces, "Ben's been crying half the day, his fever is at a hundred and four, and he needs Mal here. Can you get her here or does Ben have to call her himself?"

Belle takes a moment, "I can make her presentable and get Travis to take her."

"Thank you," Charming stresses, before he ends the call.

"Is she coming?" Ben immediately asks.

"Mal is," Charming confirms.

"Belle's busy," Chad guesses, "isn't she?"

Charming notices Ben look down, "You have to understand. It takes a strong woman to tame an unruly man, and as strong as your mother is, she needs the time to do that."

"So, he invites her back, and suddenly it's like it never happened?" Ben disbelieves.

"It's because it happened," Charming excuses, "that she needs the time to take care of her marriage, but she said she'd be here tomorrow."

Ben stares forward, tears intruding his eyes, "He treats her like trash, and she chooses him every single time."

Chad takes his hand, "It's going to be okay." and Ben glances from their hands to his eyes. "She'll be here, and until then, you have me." He stares at him, moves in, and Chad presses a hand against his shoulder. "Ben. What are you doing?"

Ben's mouth opens, before he says, "I don't know."

"You have a feeding tube," Chad reminds him. "You can't eat me right now."

"I know," Ben shakes his head. "I'm sorry."

Chad looks back at his father, "Is bringing Mal here really a good idea?"

Charming contemplates, "Mal can defend herself, should she need to."

* * *

When Mal enters the room, Ben smiles at her, "Hey."

"Hey yourself." Mal eyes over him, "I heard you need me to cool a fire."

Charming stands from his seat, "We'll give you a minute." before he heads for the door; however, when he glances back, he's still sitting in the chair. "Chad."

He crosses his arms, "It's not like they can have sex in a hospital room."

"Chad," he says again.

"And how are they supposed to do anything with that tube in their way?"

"Chad," his voice raises. "They need privacy."

After a moment, Ben finds Chad's hand, and he faces him, "We'll talk later."

Chad smirks and leans forward, "Dummkopf."

Ben moves towards him, "Imbecile."

"I hate to break the two of you up," Mal strides forward and pushes Chad back against the chair. "Oh, wait. I don't need to, because you already did."

"Mal," Ben laughs. "He's no threat."

She glows her eyes, "Chad. What do you think? Are you a threat?"

"Yes," he answers.

Ben sighs, "He doesn't know what he's saying." Her eyes continue to pierce at Chad. "Kitten. Come here."

Mal lets go of Chad and faces Ben, "Kitten?"

He awkwardly smiles, "Well, you're pretty… what's the word?"

"Feisty?" Mal supplies.

Ben nods her over, "Kiss me."

After she steps away from Chad, his father calls him over. He watches her kiss Ben, and his father says again, "Chad." He frowns, moves away from them, and once he makes it to the door, his father comments, "A little young to be fighting dragons, don't you think?"

"I can't help that she chose to prey on my best friend," Chad defends.

"She's helping him with his fever," he dismisses. "It's not like she's trying to eat him."

"She sent her girlfriend to the hospital last year," Chad opposes. "She's like a heat sucking vampire."

"And you're not," his father reminds him. "Which is why she's helping him, and we're giving them the privacy to do it." He guides Chad out of the room, watches Mal place a hand to Ben's neck, and shuts the door.

Mal whispers, "You're mine."

"I'm yours," Ben confirms, and he moves in to kiss her.

She places a finger to her his lips, "And you're going to play nice with Evie?"

He smiles, "You're all that matters."


	76. It Fell

**It Fell **

**(Sunday Morning, August 4****th****)**

"Alright," Aladdin says, as Carlos joins them for lunch. "What are we tackling today?"

"I don't want to tackle," Carlos frowns. "I'm not good at it."

"It's almost been a month." He addresses, "The next time Belle asks about you, I want to be able to tell her that you ate more than just brownies."

"I eat more than brownies," he defends.

"Yeah," Aziz tiredly agrees. "And dip and crackers."

"You've never even tried the salad," Jasmine suggests.

Carlos furrows his eyebrows, "You eat the salad."

Aladdin gauges Jasmine's expression, before he turns to him, "Carlos. You can try it."

"Vegetables don't even taste like anything," he complains.

"Better than tasting bad," he inputs.

"I don't like noisy food," Carlos adds.

"There has to be something here you want," he challenges. Carlos eyes from the rice to the beans, shaking his head. "What do you want? Grilled cheese?"

Carlos grumbles, "Can I be honest?"

"Of course."

He glances at Aziz before facing Aladdin, "I think I just really miss meat."

"You don't need something just because you miss it," Aziz reminds him.

Carlos looks at him, "Maybe I'm missing like protein or something."

"You can get that from the beans," he points out.

"What about iron?" Carlos questions.

"That's what the salad is for," he irritably responds. "You only need twenty milligrams a day. There's no reason why anyone needs to eat meat other than selfishness."

"Hold on," Aladdin holds up a hand, keeping his brown eyes on Carlos. "It's not like you've gone this whole time without meat. I just got you some lunchmeat last week."

"He went through that in less than a day," Aziz enlightens.

"A day?" his eyes widen.

"I'm sorry," Carlos whispers, as he stares at the empty plate.

"I guess, I just don't understand," he explains himself. "I thought the Isle of the Lost lacked resources. How could someone from there not know how to save food for later and be so picky about what they do have?"

"I mean, if you didn't eat it, someone else did," Carlos whispers, before he shakes his head. "But no. Mal gave me her scraps. If something didn't taste right to her or whatever. Even on the Isle I had more than a pound of meat a week."

"There's two weeks left, until you're back at school." Aladdin considers, "If you can't stand staying here that long, I can call Belle and give you a ride back."

"Don't you mean a ticket?" Carlos corrects. "For the train."

"I'd rather drive you back," he affirms. Carlos quiets, and Aladdin takes a deep breath, "So, which is it? Staying or going?"

Carlos unsurely smiles, "What's two weeks?"

"Okay, then." He thinks, "And I can get you an extra pound of lunchmeat this week."

"Another one?" Aziz complains.

"You don't think I should?" he questions.

"He already said he'd stay," Aziz points out. "And it's called a family pack for a reason. He's already eating four times more than his fair share."

"Five ounces of meat a day," his mother informs, "if you're not having a cup of beans." She faces Carlos, "But you're also supposed to be getting in two cups of vegetables, so I recommend that you try it."

Carlos crosses his arms, "I've never needed vegetables before. I don't need them now."

"You're not even going to try it?" Aziz disbelieves.

He faces him, "Why do I need to? I already know I don't like them."

Aziz stands, "I need a minute." before he walks away and heads up the stairs.

Carlos sighs, rolling his eyes, before he follows him up to the living room, "Az."

He turns around, "What?"

He quiets, "Look. I tried the whole Gandhi lifestyle. It's not working for me."

"Does that include the praying too?" Aziz's voice raises.

"I mean, it would be nice to be able to sleep," he inputs.

Aziz steps towards him, "If you didn't stay awake until three A.M., then you could."

"I have a hard time getting to sleep," Carlos stresses. "What's your problem?"

"You give up so easily."

"Okay," Carlos slowly acknowledges. "Why would that even matter?"

"Because," he shouts, before he takes a deep breath. "You promised me you would try dating girls this year. But if you can't even try a couple vegetables because you don't like them, then why wouldn't you back out on this?"

Carlos frowns, as he calmly answers, "I don't have a reason to eat vegetables. I have a reason to date girls. It's a scientific study to prove that you can't be a monk forever, and if by some miracle it works… At least I wouldn't be breaking the law anymore."

"You can't get miracles without God."

"I'll still pray with you," Carlos counters. "I just don't want to wreck my sleep for it." Aziz's eyes lower. "Please, tell me you understand."

"It feels like you're always asleep," he notes.

"I really tried, Az. I've tried coffee. I've tried energy drinks." Carlos widens his eyes, "I've tried to stay awake for days just so that I'd be tired enough to reset my sleep cycle. Nothing works. It's like if I don't sleep in, I sleep twice as much."

"You woke up for school," Az reminds him. "What changed?"

"Nothing." He laughs, "I got so tired some days that I would skip my later classes. And then I started being late for my first one, even if I went to sleep earlier."

Aziz eyes over him, "What are you going to do about school this year?"

"I can try to sleep after school," Carlos considers. "I really don't know, though."

"And tourney?" he inquires.

"I don't even like tourney," Carlos confesses. "I'd rather just make it to class."

* * *

"Ben," Charming comments, "They're going to be giving you dinner in three hours, and you still haven't eaten anything today."

"Well, maybe, they shouldn't be trying to give me breakfast when I'm asleep," he argues.

"If you don't drink the shakes, they're going to think you're not healing," he warns. "They'll give you broth instead."

He faces him, "And?"

"You're purposely slowly your recovery time," Charming comments. "If you don't eat, it won't matter if you're better or not. They'll keep you here, and you may even miss the start of the school year. Is that what you want?"

Ben scratches the blender bottle with his thumb nail, "I don't need to go home, yet. I can stay here."

He takes a moment, "Ben."

He meets his eyes, "I'm not eating, unless my mother is here. You can call her."

"You know she's busy," he frowns.

"Yeah." Ben points out, "She's busy choosing him. I'm always in the hospital, so she doesn't need to see me." He scratches at the shake again, "But one of these times I'm not going to get better." before he opens the cap and drops it on the floor.

"Ben. What are you—"

"Does she even know I took my tube out?" Ben accuses.

He sadly answers, "She didn't answer. I sent a text." and he watches him look away. "Ben. What's going on?"

He shakes his head, "Just tired."

"Maybe you should try sleeping some," Charming suggests.

Ben frowns at him, "Not that kind of tired."

"You're depressed," he understands, and he turns back to the door.

A nurse stands in the doorway, "King Ben?"

He eyes down at the shake's spill, "It fell."

He watches her go to the sink to grab some paper towels, and he sees Charming's concern. "That was a lie."

"No, it wasn't." Ben evenly reasons, "It fell out of my hand. I fell down the stairs. Things fall all the time." His eyes lower. "It was an accident."

* * *

He barges past the brown-haired officer, "I'm here to see my son." before Adam enters the hospital room.

Ben gapes, "Dad." as he leans against the bed. "Where's Mother?"

He strides forward, pointing a finger at the ground, "Do you even realize how distasteful it is to use someone's children's health as leverage. And to get your mother, no less."

"I just wanted her here," he defends.

"Do you hate me that much, that you're willing to starve yourself to death?"

Ben stares, and Charming stands, "Maybe you should go."

When the officer takes his arm, Adam elbows him away, "I don't think so." He turns back to Ben, "Well. What you've got to say for yourself?"

Ben partly smiles, "I'm very sick."

When Adam takes another step, Officer Rinehart handcuffs him, "Adam Beast. You are under arrest."

He flexes, the chains snap in half, and he turns to him, "You're arresting me?"

"We said we'd be back in a week," he informs. "A week's passed, Belle's attempted to schedule Ben his appointments; meanwhile, you yell at her to leave her home, and you come to your son's hospital room to threaten him—when he's at the hospital for suspicious injuries."

Adam straightens, "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying you can come peacefully or I can get security."

"You won't be able to hold me," he asserts.

"Maybe," Officer Rinehart agrees. "Maybe twenty-four hours is all I need."

* * *

-** Posted**: 05/10/2020


	77. Evidence

**Evidence **

**(Sunday Evening, August 4****th****)**

Officer Kolinski faces her, "Queen Belle." and she looks up at him. "Your husband's been placed in custody for the next twenty-four hours."

She shuts her book, "I see."

"If we find any new evidence between now and then," he informs, "we could build a case to keep him there."

She stands, "Good luck finding any."

She moves past him, and he turns around, "Your Highness." He walks with her, "It's in your best interest to be honest with us."

She exits the library, "I don't know what you're expecting, officer, but I don't wish to be separated from my husband."

"You said he was responsible for sending Ben to the hospital," he reminds her.

She walks up the staircase, "Adam has his fair share of problems. Sending him to some prison with a five-year anger management course isn't going to help him."

"It would help you," he inputs.

She turns around, "Trust me, Officer Kolinski. I'm fine." She continues down the hall and knocks on a door, "Mal? You okay in there?" She opens the door, scans the bedroom, and moves over to the bathroom. She frowns, walks back to the door, and requests, "I've got to take a shower. Can you see if Mal and Evie are in the kitchens?"

"Kitchens?" he questions.

"Probably the one in the East Wing," she suggests.

"I can do that."

"Thank you," Belle partly smiles, before goes into the master bedroom and moves into the bathroom. She turns on the shower, looks into the mirror, and clutches the counter before silently sobbing.

* * *

When Kolinski walks into the kitchen, he sees Evie feed Mal a tiny strawberry cake, "Sorry for interrupting. Belle wanted to check on you."

Mal chews the cake, "So, why isn't she here?"

He hesitates, "She might just be avoiding me. My partner and I have twenty-four hours to collect evidence against Ben's father, before we have to release him from custody."

Mal widens her eyes, "You need evidence?"

"Yes," he confirms.

"I have evidence," Mal proclaims.

"Show me," he commands, and Mal walks towards the door.

"Last year, Ben and his father got into an argument," she informs, as she guides him out of the East Wing. "When he tried getting away from him, he fell down the stairs." She questions, "Does that still help?"

"It would prove he's afraid of him," he confirms.

Mal walks down the first flight of stairs, "When he fell, he had to go to the hospital. He showed me the blood stain a few months ago." Mal removes the rug and gapes at the black-haired officer, "I swear, it was here."

He kneels and runs his hand over the white stone, "This tile looks new."

Mal slowly responds, "This doesn't help you anymore, does it?"

Kolinski stands back up, "Is there anything else you know of?"

Mal thinks, "The broken things always get cleaned up. Belle uses tea to calm him down." She shrugs, "Nothing useful. Ben and I are together again, so if I tell anyone about his parents, they'll just think I'm trying to get them out of the way."

"You should have come forward when the evidence was still here," Kolinski comments.

She glances down, "Ben didn't want me to."

"Oh, Officer," Evie calls out. "I forgot."

When she gets to the bottom of the stairs, he questions, "Do you have any evidence?"

"Oh," she smiles. "No. Evidence doesn't exist."

"So, you don't know anything?" She shakes her head, and he informs, "If Ben doesn't get help, he could get hurt."

"I'd be less worried about Ben and more about Belle." Evie explains, "After we graduate, I'm going to get my shop, and Ben's going to come stay with us."

"What?" he questions.

"Yeah," Mal agrees. "I don't get it either."

She turns to her, "My shop's going to have that second-floor apartment area. We have a queen-sized bed. There will be enough room for all of us." She turns back to the officer, "Belle's the one who has to live here. You should be more worried about her."

"Do you have any proof Adam's a threat to Belle?" he inquires.

Mal evenly answers, "We saw him slap her once."

"Don't forget that time when she almost touched his enchanted rose, and he pushed her to the floor and yelled at her to leave and go out into the blizzard," Evie reminds her.

"Did Belle tell you about that?" Kolinski assumes.

"Oh, no," Evie grins again. "I was there."

Mal places a hand to her head, "Hey, Eves." before she places her hands on her shoulders. "I'm really in the mood for some strawberry lemonade. Can you see if you can make us some?"

"But Mal," she frowns. "You're allergic to water."

"Then turn it into another cake or something," she solves before maneuvering her towards the stairs. She turns back to the officer with wide eyes and whispers, "I'm so sorry. She really isn't doing great right now."

"Oh," Evie turns around. "I almost forgot again." She looks at him, "Officer Kolinski. I know it must be really hard dealing with your daughter dying with her only being five and all, but it would be really sad if you shot yourself and you shouldn't do it."

He stares at her, "My daughter's three."

"Oh." She hums, "Never mind, then."

After she skips up the stairs, Mal admits, "She really scares me sometimes."

"What is she?" He assumes, "I mean, she's not human, right?"

Mal answers, "She's a witch."

He takes a moment, "Does that mean she can see the future?"

"She's an empath," Mal shakes her head. "I just assume she can see the past, because there's an emotional imprint or whatever. But there's no reason why she should be able to see the future." She notices his concern, "Don't worry about her. She just gets this way when she doesn't eat. I'm still waiting for the gods to bow to me."

* * *

The next day Belle walks into the hospital room, "Ben?"

He frowns at her, "You came."

"Of course, I came," she goes over to him and runs a hand through his hair. "How are you doing?"

He shuts his eyes, "Tired."

"You should eat something," she suggests.

"Can we just stay like this for a minute?" he requests.

She smiles, "Of course." and Charming looks at the officers.

Officer Kolinski nods Rinehart out of the room, and when they turn into the hallway, he questions, "Any luck with our king?"

"Ben still refuses to say anything," he informs.

"I had just as much luck with Belle," Kolinski quietly comments. "But Mal said Ben told her about a time when he argued with his father and fell down the stairs."

"He went to the hospital for that," Rinehart recalls.

"If it happened, there's no proof." He explains, "They replaced the stone tile." He takes a step back, peering into the room, as he watches her about to kiss Ben's forehead. "Belle," he shouts. She notices him, and he calms, "Your Highness. May we speak with you?"

When she stands, Ben clings to her, "No."

"It will just be a moment," she reassures, before she takes his hand from her arm, squeezes it, and then lets go. She heads outside, and she eyes between the two officers, folding her hands in front of her, "What can I help you with?"

"Mal said there was a blood stain on the staircase," Kolinski starts, and her eyes lower. "When we went to look at it, the stone was pure white."

Rinehart intrudes, "I presume you're going to tell us it didn't happen."

Belle faces him, "There was a blood stain." before she nods. "Ben secretly went to the butcher last year to get animal blood. After he walked home, he tripped on his way up the stairs, and the jug broke."

"The jug broke?" Rinehart doubts.

"Cheap plastic," she reasons.

"Hold on." Kolinski counters, "If Ben's been getting blood from the butcher, then why hasn't anyone talked about it? What's with all the worry about him hurting people?"

She frowns, "Not fresh enough, I'm afraid." before she looks down and takes a deep breath. "Anyway, when Adam saw the mess, he shouted, Ben slipped on the blood, and he fell on the stairs. That's how he got the fractured shoulder and concussion."

"That's not what Mal said Ben told her," Kolinski comments.

"Ben might not even know what happened," Belle excuses. "Everything got so muddled for him after the incident. All he remembered at first was his father shouting and coming to with him hovering over him. Of course, he must think something happened."

"Did you ever try telling Ben this?" Rinehart asks.

She strains a smile, "He'd never believe it. He hasn't been very accepting of himself."

"Your Highness," he insinuates, "the time to come forward is when there's allegations."

"The time to come forward," Belle negates, "is when it benefits the victim. I'm fine right where I am, and keeping this family together is what's ultimately best for Ben."

"Your husband won't let you leave the castle without his permission," Kolinski counters.

"He's just protective," she laughs. "And that's what Ben needs as a royal."

"If he cares about Ben," he disagrees, "then why doesn't he visit him?"

She crosses her arms, before she meets his grey eyes, "Well, maybe it's just a little hard for a parent to see their child slowly die before their very eyes." The tears run down her cheeks. "And knowing that there's nothing he can do to stop it, it angers him so much." She takes a deep breath, "Especially now that it seems Ben has chosen to give up on the few years he has left."

Rinehart tries reaching for her shoulder, "Belle."

She pierces her eyes at him, "I think you should leave." before she looks at Kolinski. "Both of you."

"Your Highness," Rinehart frowns. "We're just trying to help."

"And this is how you help a victim?" her eyes widen. "I hate to see what kind of plans you had for Adam."

"Your Highness," Kolinski starts.

Belle glares at him, "I said go." before she returns her sights to Rinehart. "Now."

Ben turns his head back up, as his mother reenters the room, "Are you okay?"

She tries to smile, removing the tears from her face, "I'm fine, honey."

"I'm sorry," he apologizes.

"For what?"

He takes a moment, "For using my health as a chess piece."

She wraps an arm over him and kisses his forehead, "You did no such thing."

"I'm really hungry," Ben recognizes, before he reaches for the shake, she lets go, and he distracts himself with a drink.


	78. By its Cover

**By its Cover **

**(Monday Afternoon, August 5****th****)**

Ben takes a sip from the protein shake, "You know, there's this underlying taste I'm starting to notice." He unsurely examines the blender bottle, "It doesn't matter if it's chocolate, vanilla, or strawberry, it all tastes the same."

"Ben," his mother starts.

"Don't worry," Ben flips the cap up. "I'm still going to drink it." He murmurs, "Assuming I don't throw up first."

"I wouldn't joke about that in a hospital," Belle warns.

He raises his eyebrows, "Joking? They're trying to get me to drink three thousand calories a day. That's six shakes. You know how heavy that is on the stomach?"

She looks away, and her mouth cracks open, "Adam."

Ben immediately turns towards the door, before his father enters the room. "Didn't feel like meeting me at the station?"

"I thought I should be here," she points out.

He looks at Ben, "Do you need us?"

"Uh, no," Ben's head lowers. "I'm good now."

"You hear that?" His father turns to Belle, "You can come home."

"He's still displaying symptoms from the transfusion," she disagrees.

"Then I'm sure he's in good hands," he disproves. "Come on. Let's go."

When she looks at Ben, he seriously whispers, "Just go."

She stands from her seat, "If you get any worse—"

"Then I'm in good hands," Ben frowns.

"Call us," she finishes, before she walks over to the doorway. She glances back, Adam places an arm over her shoulders, and they leave.

Ben turns away from the door, and he sees his father on television. Snow White announces, "It was just moments ago that King Adam was released from police custody, after the investigation into the abuse allegations against him have been dropped." She moves the mic towards him, "Your Highness. Do you have any words for the country?"

He solemnly eyes from her to the camera, "As my lovely wife would say, 'never judge a book by its cover'. My height and strength might make me look dangerous, and I may have ruled aggressively in times of war, but that does not make me a violent man."

After the footage cuts to the stage, another news anchor comments, "Thank you, Snow." He faces the policeman, "Officer Kolinski. Now that the investigation is over, is there anything you can reveal to the public?"

He nods, "We've had several anonymous sources report allegations of abuse in the royal household over the span of many months. King Ben and his mother both denied any such claim; however, with five allegations in as many months, we were obligated to investigate."

"Did the investigation produce anything?"

Kolinski hesitates, "There was confirmation that King Ben's medical needs weren't being completely taken care of, but his mother has since then met the required expectations."

"And his father?" the news anchor inquires.

"His father didn't want to trust anyone new," he divulges. "We thought that if his neglectfulness stemmed beyond being overprotective, then it would be easier finding evidence and witnesses while he was in custody." He takes a moment, "Unfortunately, we didn't find anything, and the investigation has been closed."

"Why would that be unfortunate?" he questions. "If the investigation has been closed, then doesn't that mean King Adam is innocent?"

"Officially, yes." Kolinski explains, "We would need evidence before the court can determine whether he's guilty or innocent. This is just my personal opinion, and it is not the APD's official position." He pauses, "My instincts tell me there's more here. I think it's too early to end the investigation, but without a victim or specific crime, this isn't even a cold case. It's a dead case." He faces the camera, "I'm sorry King Ben, but there's nothing more I can do."

Ben whispers, "I'm sorry too." before he closes the lid on shake.

* * *

"Your Highness," the aged nurse unenthusiastically addresses. "You've only had half of your shakes today."

"I'm only awake half the day," he irritably reminds her.

She sets the new one in front of him, "Strawberry with chocolate."

He widens his eyes at her, "They all taste the same."

Her blue eyes scan him, "Have you been offered blood, yet?"

Ben awkwardly smiles, "How about some warm beef broth instead?"

"We've gone over this," she reminds him. "Broth doesn't contain enough calories to replace one of these shakes."

"It will with coconut oil," he solves. "One tablespoon is a hundred or so calories."

"We don't have that on hand." She considers, "And isn't that high in saturated fats?"

Ben's brows furrow, "It's coconut oil. If it comes from one, it can't be that bad. Just put four tablespoons in some broth, and the problem is done."

"I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but protein shakes have more nutritional value." He folds his arms, and she asks, "Are you sure you wouldn't like a blood bag?"

He faces her, "When do I get out of here?"

She sets the small, paper cup next to the shake, "When your medication is all you need."

Ben watches her check his IV, "Maybe I don't need it."

She laughs, "If your fever were any higher, you would die. You're staying here."

He tries to smile, "Did I ever tell you about my girlfriend? She has a heat issue too." Ben's eyes shift, "I give mine to her, my fever lowers, and everyone's happy."

"Did you learn that from King Charming or pick it up on your own?" she inquires.

"Pick what up?"

"Your charm." She explains, "Something tells me you could get out of any situation."

His expression falls, "I wish that were true."

"King Ben," she starts.

He looks away and swallows his medication with the new shake, "Why are these cold?"

"There's ice."

"And milk," Ben adds. "I don't like it."

"The ice or the milk?" she asks.

"Both." He angers, "I can't do this for another four days or month or whatever. Okay? I want to go."

"Do you think your temperature is at a hundred?"

His eyebrows furrow, "No."

"Then, I guess, you're just going to have to stay here a little longer." He tilts his head, and his mouth cracks open. "I can heat up some blood for you."

"I'm really not that hungry," he complains.

"Very well." She compromises, "Hot chocolate, it is. You'll need to have more, though, if you don't want the milk."

"If you give me a huge one," he informs, "I can drink it while I'm awake."

She nods, "I think we have a thermos."

* * *

"Good Afternoon," Charming says, as he walks into the room.

"Afternoon," Ben murmurs.

He sits down, before he nods to the drink, "What's that?"

"Hot chocolate." He tries to smile at him, "I got into a really bad mood yesterday. I complained about the milk, the ice, and how cold it was."

"Therefore, hot chocolate," Charming concludes.

"A little lukewarm, though," Ben cringes. "She said the powder clumped the first time she tried it. It was too hot."

"I hear you get to try soft foods tonight," he grins. "That's exciting, isn't it?"

Ben purses his lips, "Aziz and Carlos went on Hawthorne's field trip last week. Ruby and her sister went on some wilderness spa retreat." He gestures to the television, "Audrey is hosting a fundraiser right now so that the first three floors of the low-income apartments can be built in her kingdom before winter."

"Okay." Charming settles, "So, there's more exciting things you could be doing than trying new food."

"I can't even do my job in here," Ben complains.

"Yes, you can," Charming counters. "Just ask for help. What can I do?"

"Audrey's already ahead of the game," his eyes widen, "but we have five other apartments to build—all of which have different climate and weather requirements—and nowhere near the amount of funding we need to do it."

"So, we need to find a way to get that money," he understands.

Ben awkwardly smiles, "How much do you think someone would pay for me to answer honestly to a question?"

Charming frowns, "You don't need that kind of stress."

"Don't you think the country deserves an honest king?" he debates.

"You are honest," Charming assures. "Everyone has secrets, Ben. You don't need to feel guilty about keeping your private life from the press."

"Most royal's private lives don't involve them spending half of their life in a hospital and the other half getting physically and psychologically beat by their parents," Ben divulges.

He takes a moment, "You know, the investigation was closed due to lack of evidence of a crime. If there was victim willing to come forward, there would be a case to be made."

Ben lays back against the hospital bed, "I'm really tired."

"Your mother set up an appointment with a psychologist," he informs. "I encourage that you're completely honest with them."

He faces him, "How's Chad. I thought he'd be here."

"He is," Charming reassures. "He just wanted to take a walk first." Ben nods, and he explains, "He's been stressed, not sleeping very well… Upset without reason."

"He's not getting enough fat in his diet," Ben opinionates.

"Chad's just eating lean," he defends. "He wants to be in shape for tryouts."

"And then there will be a game, and then there's going to be a recruit," Ben lists.

"What are you saying?"

Ben wets his lips, "Look." before he faces him. "The body uses carbs, right? Well, the brain needs fat. Chad's not getting enough fat in his diet for him to process everything that's happening in his life. He's not giving his brain the energy it needs to think through things."

"Chad's studying all that health stuff," he informs. "I'm sure he's researched how much fat someone needs in a day."

"He's not reducing his fat consumption," Ben opposes. "He's eliminating it."

"He's studying health," he says again.

"I study health," Ben interrupts. "Do I look healthy to you?"

He pauses, "You know how upset Chad's been, seeing you like this. Do you honestly believe he would try to do what you are?"

"Oh. I don't believe he's trying to do anything," Ben denies. "What I believe is that he's under a lot of pressure, and he does this whenever he's stressed. He plays tourney, he's the bigshot on campus, and flirting is his pastime. He loses all of that if he doesn't stay in shape, so if he feels like that life is at risk, controlling his body is the way he gets to keep it." Charming eyes down, and Ben mentions, "And it's because Chad doesn't have an eating disorder that getting him a nutritionist might actually help him." Charming faces him, and Ben stresses, "You need to talk to him, before he does hurt himself."

Charming nods, "I want you to drink your hot chocolate first."

Ben lifts the thermos, "Four hundred calories down, two thousand and six hundred to go." He strains a smile, before he lifts the warm drink to his lips.

* * *

\- **Posted**:05/26/2020


	79. Graphic

**Graphic **

**(Wednesday Afternoon, August 7****th****)**

"Ice cream's a soft food," Ben suggests.

The nurse tiredly replies, "What happened to not liking milk and cold things?"

"That's for drinking," Ben defends. "I can have ice cream."

"Let's just start with the tuna sandwich," she negotiates.

His eyes narrow, "I don't like fish."

"If you eat it," she offers, "I can get you some ice cream. If you don't, you're just going to have to settle for the hot chocolate."

Ben picks up the plate, "I don't like the smell." He unsurely asks, "How many calories are in blood?"

"If I remember correctly, it's four hundred and thirty to four hundred and fifty per donation." Ben glances at the sandwich. "Would you rather have a pint?"

He looks at her, "Do I still get ice cream?"

She sighs and takes the plate back, "You're going to have to eat solids at some point."

"How about Nutella?" he questions.

"A peanut butter sandwich is the best I could do," the nurse informs, and Ben hunches over, resting his head in his hand.

"Let me guess," she presumes, "you don't like peanut butter?"

"Not without soda," he murmurs. "It gets stuck in my throat."

"Sticking with the blood, then?" Ben nods, and she says, "I'll get it for you."

Ben watches her leave, sighing, before he sees his phone beside him. He takes it off the charger and sees the missed call. He calls the number back and waits for the ringing to end, "King Charming? You called?"

"Yes." He hesitates, "How are you doing today?"

"Fine," Ben answers. "They're still trying to assign me food instead of asking me first."

"You kept saying you didn't know," Charming comments.

"Fine," he irritably replies. "The next time a nurse asks me what I want to eat while I'm sleeping, I'll put them on the menu."

"Ben."

He hears his frown, "I'm just saying that you can't ask me a question like that when I'm sleeping and expect a coherent answer. You don't want to know the kinds of things I dream about. It's an absolute nightmare."

"Look," Charming moves on. "I'm sorry, but I can't make it today."

"You live thirty or forty-five minutes away," Ben understands. "I don't expect you to come every day."

"It really isn't an inconvenience," Charming counters, "and I want to be there for you."

Ben thinks, "Is Chad sick?"

"Spiritually, sure," he answers. "He almost got a nurse fired, so I'm grounding him."

"What do you mean, he almost got a nurse fired?" Ben slowly asks.

"He had sex with her in a supply closet on the same day some drugs went missing."

"Drugs?" Ben questions.

"Oxycodone," he explains, and Ben quiets. "You haven't heard anything, have you?"

"Me?" Ben emphasizes. "No. No. I haven't." Charming silences, and Ben clears his throat, "Did Chad see anything by any chance?"

"He stole her keycard," Charming comments, before he pauses. "I asked him if he was using, and he got defensive."

"Did he?" Ben prods.

"Yes," Charming confirms.

"Well," Ben continues, "what do you think?"

"I think if he took them, then we'll find them." Charming concerns, "I just hope he's not too far gone. Addiction changes a person."

"Chad hasn't changed that much," Ben defends.

"He's losing faith in God," Charming contradicts. "He's an emotional wreck, and he's more confused than ever."

"Confused?" Ben inquires.

"Maybe he hasn't told you," Charming considers. "He's been questioning his attraction to girls. He told me that he's had feelings for guys. For you, for instance."

"Oh." Ben's brows furrow, "And you think this could have to do with the drugs?"

"If he's using, that could be a factor," Charming answers. "He's not in the right mindset to be making that kind of choice. I hope you can understand that."

"Oh, yeah." Ben awkwardly smiles, "I'm dating Mal again anyway, and she's always been super jealous of Chad, so…"

"Just give Chad some space, please," he requests. "I worry that talking with certain people might make him more confused right now."

"Believe me," Ben evenly expresses. "I want what's in Chad's best interest." He sees the nurse and apologizes, "Sorry. It's mealtime. I have to go."

"Of course," he agrees. "Thank you."

Ben smiles, before he hangs up and takes a deep breath. The nurse says, "I hope your phone isn't causing you too much stress."

He half laughs, "Only the people on the other end." before he sees the glass. "I thought blood came in bags."

"I assumed you'd want it warm." He takes it from her, and she questions, "Unless, of course, it's thick enough to be ice cream?"

Ben takes a sip and hums, "No. It's great."

She smiles, "I'll have the ice cream ready for you in twenty minutes." and Ben nods.

After she leaves, he sets the cup down and goes to his email. There's no way he's letting Chad's father think homosexuality is some mental illness caused by drugs. Ben sends the message, takes another drink, and then notices someone in the doorway. They have their phone held up, ready to take a picture, and he stands to his feet. He can't let them expose him; however, the IV tugs, before he recalls the metal stand he's attached to. He hears the click, meets the invader's eyes, and sees the guy lower the phone. "You look sick."

Ben remarks, "I'm in a hospital, aren't I?" and he eyes over him before walking away.

* * *

"I don't know what I'm going to do," Ben panics. "I can't have my country thinking I'm some sort of…"

"Beast?" Mal offers, and Ben stares at her. "You're different? So, what? On the Isle our differences make us stronger." She eyes up, "Well, unless you're John Smith. It turns out that when someone is willing to take you in and share their food with you, it's frowned upon for you to try to have sex with their twelve-year-old."

"He didn't know their language," Ben defends. "He didn't know she was supposed to be his sister. And he tried to marry her. He didn't…" Ben falters, "You know, you don't need to take it personally. Nothing happened."

Mal frowns, "You don't need to be raped to be violated. Being told what he's going to do to you is enough."

Ben lowers his head, "You're right." before he meets her jade eyes. "I'm sorry." He sees the TV and sighs, "Here it is." before he turns the volume up.

The news anchor announces, "Earlier today a photo of King Ben in the hospital went viral. Now, I must warn it's fairly graphic."

When the picture pops up on screen, he notices, "The blood isn't in the picture."

He continues, "Yes. It has been confirmed that this photo has not been doctored in any way. The king indeed has lost this much weight."

"I don't get why it's graphic," Mal inputs. "They can't even see your collarbones."

Ben faces her, before the news catches his attention. "This sudden weight loss has prompted many to wonder if being king is just too much stress for a teenager to handle nowadays. Snow White. Any thoughts?"

When the image switches to her, she strains a smile, "I think that if the king's busy schedule were the problem, we would have seen this start last school year. All this photo proves is that King Ben is underweight and in the hospital. I'm sure he will share the details with us once his treatment has ended."

Mal sees Ben's expression, "Are you okay?"

"I just… I don't know what they see."

She questions, "You don't think you're thin?"

"It's not that I'm not thin," Ben contemplates. "It's just… I still have so much skin where it shouldn't be, and there's no shape to it, I guess."

"You could try bulking up," Mal suggests.

He faces her, "Do you think I need to?"

She unsurely replies, "If it makes you happy."

"I don't think it would," Ben admits.

"What would, you think?"

"I don't know if anything could." He wets his lips, takes a deep breath, and meets her eyes, as tears invade his vision, "I hate everything about myself."

She takes his hand, "I can name some things I like." She partly smiles, "Your eyes hold so much wisdom, but they're hopeful." before she feels his head. "Your hair is soft."

When she moves her hand from him, Ben sees the strands of hair, "It's soft, because it's fur. Maybe I hate that too."

"But Ben." She moves his hair behind an ear, "You're so beautiful."

His frown deepens, "I don't feel beautiful."

"You're passionate and kind."

"Half of the time," Ben finishes. "Not that it matters if I can't even look at myself."

Mal takes a moment, "How can I help?"

He runs his thumb over her fingers, before he feels the family crest of the ring, "You can help me get out of here." He faces her, "If you can keep my temperature at a hundred, they'll have to let me leave."

"Ben," she sighs.

"Please," he pleads. "I can't stay here."

"You'd rather be home?" Mal doubts.

"If it means knowing my mother is safe," he insists, "then, yes."

She eyes over him, "I really don't think you need the stress."

"What about my job?" Ben reminds her. "If I keep ending up in here, I'll lose it."

"I thought you transferred your salary to your new account," she unsurely replies.

"Which means this month I should get four thousand dollars." Ben worries, "But what if my father fights against that too? What if he thinks he deserves a cut or something?"

"You're the king," Mal reminds him.

"But most royal families divide the money amongst itself," Ben debates. "What if he wants half of it to go to him?"

"You don't need to give into his demands," Mal asserts, and Ben's head lowers. "He never gave you anything. Why should you?"

"You don't understand, Mal." His hazel-green eyes meet her, "I might not be given a choice." He pleads, "Please, help me." Mal eyes over him, before she leans in and kisses him. "I forgot how hard this is."

She places a finger to his lips, "You can't bite me if you're kissing me." before she leans in again.

* * *

\- **Post**: 06/26/2020

\- **Darthamster12** I understand. Thank you for your dedication. I hope the break serves you well and that you're able to come back. The alternate timeline does make things even more confusing, but if I'm following the rule that key events (like someone having a child) is meant to happen, regardless of the universe, then writing these at the same time makes it easier. Although, it does make it harder to remember what happened in which universe. I think it will become easier farther down the timeline, where things become drastically different. Anyway, I hope you're doing well.

\- Sorry for posting seven or something chapters at the same time, but I keep thinking I've posted ones I haven't. I guess, I just didn't think I was at a good stopping point last week.


	80. Heir

**Heir **

**(Thursday Afternoon, August 8****th****)**

"Do you have it?" Ben questions, as Evie sits next to him.

"Yeah," she frowns, as she takes the Nutella and spoon from her purse. "There wasn't any Bai water left."

"Damn it." Ben complains, "Mother probably took it. She'll have anything coconut."

"I did bring some vitamin waters," Evie informs, as she takes out the flavored waters.

"Thank you." Ben opens the large Nutella jar, "I've been thinking about this for days."

"Not a problem," she reassures. "I'm here for you so long as you're here for me."

Ben eyes from the Nutella to her, "Is there a… What do you want?"

"Mal's going to tell you she thinks I'm losing it," Evie informs. "When that happens, I need you to convince her I'm fine."

He takes a moment, "What makes you think she's going to do that?"

"It's at a party," Evie explains. "She's talking to you near the top of the stairs. She's worried about me. I need you to tell her I'm fine."

"Okay," Ben unsurely replies. "What happens if I don't?"

"I'm not sure," Evie admits. "But I feel like it needs to be done."

Ben wets his lips, "I'll try to remember."

She smiles, "You're so beautiful." before she reaches for his hair. "But you have to grow this out."

He takes her hand away from him, "Don't call me beautiful."

"Why?"

"Because. I'm not," Ben insists, before he jabs the spoon back into the chocolate spread. "I'm just a fat pig that can't go an hour without thinking about food."

"I mean," Evie defends, "I don't envy how food talks to you and gets in your face."

"Yeah," Ben sighs, before he sucks on the spoon.

The nurse walks inside, "Your Highness." and Ben stares at her outstretched hand. "Give it to me."

Ben removes the spoon from his mouth, "But it's mine."

"You can have it back, once you get out of here," she reassures.

Ben glances from the Nutella to her, "No."

"Excuse me?" she disbelieves.

Ben holds it closer, "It's mine." but then she walks up to him. The hand hovers over the jar in front of him, and he bites it. "Ow."

"Serves you right," the nurse snatches the jar from him. "Didn't your parents ever tell you not to bite the hand that feeds you?"

"Um," Ben tries to recall. "No?" She pulls up her sleeve and turns out her glove, and Ben sees the gauze-like material. "What is that?"

"A safety precaution," she explains.

Ben feels the tip of his bottom canine, "It was like a rock."

"You didn't chip a tooth, did you?" Evie worries.

"No," Ben sighs. "Surprisingly. I need a new teeth doctor."

"Dentist," Evie informs.

Ben glares at her, "You don't need to correct something that's already correct."

"King Ben," the nurse interrupts, and he faces her. "Have you decided what you would like for dinner?"

He unsurely smiles, "How about a pound of lightly cooked hamburger with a jar of spaghetti sauce and some cheese on the bottom and top?" She doesn't answer, and he leans back, eyeing the ceiling. "I want to go home."

Evie asks, "Would it be okay if I brought him meals? I could calculate the nutritional value so that you can track it."

The nurse hesitates, "We don't normally allow uncontrolled foods or other substances inside the hospital."

"I live with him," Evie mentions, "and I love cooking. I could help him meal plan. Don't you want to know he'll be okay when he leaves?"

She takes a minute, "I have to ask his doctors first, but if I let you cook for him, you will need to follow a very strict calorie and macronutrient percentage."

"Perfect," she grins.

The nurse nods, "I will get with you."

After she leaves, Ben turns to Evie, "Any chance you could take some calories off?"

Evie seriously frowns, "They're not going to let me cook for you if I don't do it right. I'm cooking everything I need to."

"Come on," Ben complains.

Evie raises her eyebrows, "Well, you don't have to eat it if you don't want to." before she finds the nail file in her purse.

Ben watches her examine her hand, "Evie?" She faces him and hums. "Thank you."

"I'm going to have to learn how to cook for you anyway," she disregards, "if you're going to be living with Mal and me."

"You mean, me?" Ben corrects, and when she stares, he continues. "You and Mal are living with me."

Evie smiles, "You really are cute." before she bops his nose with the emery board. His eyebrows furrow, as his eyes cross. "You don't want to eat this." Evie pulls it away, but his eyes follow it. "Okay. What is it?"

"I don't know," Ben glances down, before he looks at the nail filer again. "I just got really mad that it touched me."

"I'm sorry," she apologizes.

"It's not your fault," Ben denies. "It's its fault."

Evie nods, before she spots the garbage bin and walks over to put it in. "There," she smiles and spins back towards him. "Now, it's punished and can't poke at you anymore." Ben frowns, eyeing down, and she walks over to him, "What's wrong?"

"I don't know," he softly speaks. "I just feel—"

"Evie," the nurse addresses, as she steps into the room.

Ben's frown deepens, "That was fast."

The nurse eyes over Ben before facing Evie, "Here." She hands her a few papers, "He's going to need three thousand calories, and for carnivores we like to start out by switching the percentages of the carbs and protein."

Evie sees the chart, "Fifty-five percent protein, thirty fat, and fifteen carbs."

"Saturated fat should only account for twenty percent of that fat," she cautions. "Carnivores are more likely to struggle with heart disease because of this, so it's very important to keep track of this."

Evie reads the grams below the percentages, "Got it."

"Bring me the nutritional value of the meals," she requests. "If you're under, we're going to have to make up for it."

Evie smiles, "I can do this."

The nurse breathes, "Well, that's good to hear. This one's a handful." She turns towards Ben, "No witty remark?"

When Ben fails to respond, Evie speaks up, "Let me take care of him." The nurse leaves, and she returns to her seat. "Do you know why you feel this way?"

"No," Ben whispers, before he faces her. "Do you?" She gives a hesitant look, and he frowns. "You can feel what I'm feeling, right? What is it?"

"You're anxious and sad," Evie lists, as she stares into his hazel-green eyes. "And the thought of me knowing that scares you. I think you know why you feel this way."

"How important is sex to Mal?" Ben eyes up, "I mean, I know it's important, but…"

"Well," Evie hesitates, "I do things with Mal for her. I like seeing her happy."

"I don't like sex," Ben whispers. "I really don't like it."

"I know," she softly speaks.

He tears up, "What if I can't make this work? Will she even want me?"

"You need to talk to her."

Ben shakes his head, "No."

"She said she would only believe it from you," Evie insists.

"Believe what?" he tests.

She frowns at him, "You know what."

Ben's mouth cracks open, "Mal doesn't need to know about this. I can be a good boyfriend."

"Ben," she sighs.

"Just let me try," Ben begs. "Please."

"I know Mal would accept you eventually." Evie urges, "You just need to tell her what you want."

"I don't know what I want," Ben's voice raises, before he lifts a hand to motion a calming breath. "Maybe sex isn't that bad." He smiles, "I can pretend it's not happening."

"That's healthy," she sarcastically comments.

"It could work," he thinks.

"Is this even about sex, though?" Evie inquires.

"What else would it be about?"

She widens her eyes, "You can't hide from me."

Ben folds his hands, "I used to think Mal could see through me."

"And she still can," Evie supports. "She's going to know you're hiding something, and if you don't tell her, it's going to frustrate the hell out of her."

"Don't you mean goodness?" Ben bypasses. "Isn't that what the Isle would say?"

"Fine." Evie places one leg over her other knee, "Be that way, but don't tell me I didn't say it was so."

"It's just—" Ben takes a moment, "It would be a lot easier if this worked."

"For who, exactly?"

"For me," Ben whispers. "I don't have the… I can't just not be king. I have responsibilities. I need to give the country their king. And a queen."

"And an heir," Evie finishes.

Ben sits in shock, before he nods, "Yes. And an heir. Of royal blood."


	81. Get Out

**Get Out **

**(Friday Evening, August 9****th****)**

"Dinner is served," Evie grins, before she places the bowl in front of him.

Ben glances at it, before he looks back at his phone, "What's in it?"

"Chicken, chickpea noodles, and alfredo sauce."

He frowns, "No cheese?"

"Ben," she reminds him, "you heard the doctor."

"Everything tastes better with cheese."

"Saturated fat," Evie reminds him. "It was either cheese or the sauce."

He continues to type on his phone, "It's fine. My temperature is at a hundred and two now. Once it's down to a hundred, I can go home and eat as much cheese as I want."

"Ben." Evie encourages, "The meat."

"Did you cook the chicken?"

"Chicken doesn't have blood," Evie stresses, before she moves to his other side and sits down. "Eat it, please. I special-made it for you."

"I will," Ben promises. "In a minute."

"In a minute," the nurse repeats, as she walks into the room. "I hope you know phones aren't allowed in the eating disorder unit."

"It's a good thing I'm not there, then," Ben counters, before the nurse snatches the phone from him. "Hey."

"You can have it back after you eat," she reassures.

"Don't touch the… the face of the phone," Ben concerns.

"Screen," Evie informs, but Ben continues to observe the nurse.

She examines the phone, "Who's Beth Fleur?"

"Um." Ben glances from Evie to the nurse, "My boyfriend's father is being a royal ass. He's not allowed to talk to guys right now."

"Boyfriend?" the nurse asks.

"I might have accidently led him on," Ben's eyes lower.

"Yes. I imagine that can happen when you pretend to be a girl." She hands the phone to Evie, "Don't give it back, until he eats."

"Of course," Evie agrees.

She turns to Ben, "You have thirty-five minutes to complete the meal."

Ben's eyes widen, "That's insane."

"That's how much time you would have if you were in the ED unit," she explains, "and as a nurse, I don't have all day."

Ben glances from the food to her, "And if don't?"

"Then I tell your parents," she threatens, before she leaves the room.

Evie watches Ben stare at the bowl, "Would your parents care if you ate it?"

"More than I can stand." Ben picks up the spoon, "How am I supposed to stab my food?"

"Forks aren't allowed," Evie explains. "You have to scoop it."

Ben groans, before he digs into the dish and takes a bite. He grimaces, as he chews the firm noodles. "It's hard."

"I tried overcooking them," Evie mentions, "but they dissolved. This is the softest you're going to get it."

"Why chick peas?" he complains.

"Chickpea noodles," she corrects. "Less carbs. Carnivore and all." She grins, "And it's higher in protein."

"I don't like them," he says again.

"Then eat them," she teases. "They deserve it." Ben glares at her, and she widens her eyes, "Okay, but you're not getting your phone back." She taps the phone screen, "So, boyfriend. Does that mean you're dating Chad now?"

Ben sighs, "I just wanted to be allowed to talk to him."

"So, you're not dating him?" she slowly asks.

His brows furrow, "I can't break up with him when he's this unhappy."

"So, you are dating," she interprets.

"I don't know," Ben backlashes. "What does it matter?"

"I just want to know what to tell Mal."

He raises his eyebrows at her, "You're not telling Mal anything, and she's definitely not finding out about Beth." He outstretches his hand, "Give me my phone."

"Oh. I'm sorry," she giggles. "I didn't realize you'd eaten, yet." He facepalms, and she reminds him, "I'm not allowed to give it back until you eat."

Ben gestures to the bowl, "I ate it."

"All of it," Evie frowns. "I haven't even given you your midnight snack, yet."

He eyes over her, "Midnight snack."

"Well, you're awake at night," Evie evaluates, "so I got permission to make something that can be left out for you. The nurse has it. She'll bring it in at the end of her shift."

"What is it?"

"Oh." Evie thinks, "Um, cookies."

He narrows his eyes, "Why don't I believe you?"

She smiles, "Well, I might have stolen a little of your protein powder to replace the flour. You know, low carbs."

"Higher protein," Ben finishes. "That's fine. I got tired of the under flavor, anyway."

She takes a moment, "Your English isn't a lot better, is it?"

"No," he asserts.

"Are you going to try to get it better?"

"No," Ben affirms.

* * *

"How are you doing with your French?" Evie inquires.

"I barely passed," Mal murmurs, before she takes a hot cookie from the baking sheet. "Class's over. What's there to it?"

Evie squirms, "Uh. I made those for Ben."

Mal shakes her head, "So?"

Evie divulges, "It has blood in it."

"So?" Mal questions, as she finishes it and steals another. "You can make more, right?"

"Not if I run out of the protein powder," she solemnly replies. "This stuff's expensive. You know Ben's broke right now."

Mal nods, as she quiets, "These are good, Eves."

Evie hesitates, "You should think about studying French again. You know, for this school year. You need to pass two years of one language."

"That's a lie," she seriously responds. "I could just as easily take Ancient Greek this year, easy-peasy. It'd still count as two years."

"If you're looking for hieroglyphics, you should try Arabic. Or Mandarin," she suggests. "It's a lot more common. You'd actually use it."

Mal's jaw drops, "Those are written languages, E."

"I still don't think pictures are a language." Evie grins, "Hey. There's an idea. You and Ben can communicate through drawing. It will only take an hour to get your point across."

Mal snorts, "Ben knows English, Evie. It's fine."

"Not as fine as you might think." Her expression slips, and she rests her hands on the island counter. "Ben's tired of English. He said it was hard enough to learn the first time."

Mal bites through the cookie, it drops onto the counter, and she brings a hand to her mouth, "What?"

"Ben's tired of English," Evie repeats. "He's not going to crash course it. He wants it to just happen as it happens and not stress over it."

Mal lifts a hand, as she swallows the remnants of the cookie in her mouth, "What in Hades' Hell is he thinking?"

"He probably thinks you can learn French," Evie instigates.

"I tried," Mal emphasizes. "It just doesn't click. Okay?"

"Do you think English clicks for Ben?" Evie places her hands on her hips, "He wants to have a relationship with you. He's just tired of doing all the work."

"All the work," she disbelieves. "He barely even talks to me."

Evie looks at the cookies, "Get out of my kitchen."

"What?"

Evie widens her eyes at her, "I said 'get out'."

"Fine." Mal takes the empty plate and piles the cookies on top of it.

"What are you doing?"

"Getting something out of my relationships," she counters, before she strides out of the room. She eats the cookies on her way to the West Wing; however, when she makes it to her bedroom door, Belle steps in front of her. "Mal. Something wrong?"

"Not at all," she grins. "I just stole some cookies. Evie made them."

"If she gave them to you, it's not stealing," Belle negates, before she takes a cookie from the large plate.

"Oh. Um." Mal's mouth hangs open, as Belle takes a bite and cringes.

"It's rather—It tastes like…" Mal carefully observes, as Belle brings the back of her hand to her mouth. "Is there dark chocolate in this?"

Mal breathes in relief, "You know, probably." and she grins.

Belle sets the rest of the cookie on the edge of the plate, "Sorry. I can't."

"It's fine," she dismisses. "I can just give it to Carlos. He's a good, little scavenger. Amazing, really."

"And in Agrabah," Belle cautiously reminds her.

"Right," Mal whispers.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah." Mal eyes away, "I have to go." before she hides in her room and closes the door. She walks through the room, lays the plate onto the bed, and strolls into the bathroom. She remembers the loft on the Isle, how they kept each other safe. They were there for each other, but now everyone's gone. She left everything she ever knew to come to a land of confusing rules and social constructs, and she's not even going to be able to stay with the guy she stayed for. He believed she could be good, but she's not. She's not good, she's not perfect, and she's definitely not good at speaking perfect French. She takes the blades out. The way he calls her beautiful and is obsessed with her hair, it was unsettling but nice. She turns on the hot water for the bath and takes off her clothes, before she feels the warm breath on her neck and places her hand to it. _Purple. Yer so, so pretty_. She grabs the blade and sits on the edge of the bathtub. She shouldn't be comparing Ben to Hook. She slides the blade over her thigh, and she shakily breathes. Ben doesn't know who she is, though, and he's been trying to change her. She makes two more slashes. Hook would never try to change her. She slashes even harder. He raped her. He backed her into a corner. His lips were on her neck, and she cut him across the cheek with her nails.

Mal drops the blade, rests her elbow on her knee, and places her hand to her temple and forehead, "Ben's a good guy. Ben's a good guy. Ben's a good guy." She sighs. "Such a good guy that I can't even learn his language." She picks up the blade; however, when her hand moves back, it hits the water. She turns, hurrying to shut off the water, before she listens to the sound of it echoing through the upper drain.

"Mal," Jay knocks on the door. "Are you in there?"

"I'm taking a bath," she calls out.

"Should I get Evie?"

"I'm naked," Mal informs.

"She's your girlfriend."

"So," Mal retorts. "Do you let your girlfriend in when you're in the bathroom?"

"Ruby and I aren't having sex," he discounts. "Evie's seen you naked. It's different."

"I don't care," Mal shouts. "What are you doing here?"

"Belle wanted to talk to you," he reasons. "When she saw you were still in the bathroom, she asked if it was normal for you to be in there that long."

"I'm fine, Jay. Get out of here."

"Fine," he agrees.

"And shut the door," she yells, before she hears him walk away and listens for the bedroom door to shut.


	82. Pet Peeve

**Pet Peeve **

**(Saturday Morning, August 10****th****)**

"Hey. You." Carlos turns around and watches the black-haired woman stride towards him, "You're Cruella's son, right?"

"Um," Carlos hesitates. "Yeah."

She pushes him against a building, "When you get home tell your mother to stop killing my mother's cats or she will lose something she loves too."

He stares at her, "Sorry. What was your name?"

"Drizella Tremaine," she spats, "and your mother keeps taking our cats."

"How do you know it's my mother?" Carlos questions.

"Oh, jeeze. I wonder why." She gestures to the barren landscape, "No animals. No birds. What? Is she making coats of feathers now?"

"I don't know," Carlos defends.

"My mother is old and tired," Drizella retaliates. "She can't keep going on crying every week, knowing her babies have been murdered."

"And you want me to tell my mom to stop?" He shakes his head, "I can't do that."

"You better," she points a finger to his chest, "or else I will kill her baby." She grins, "So, get in your run-down home, and tell your psychopath of a mother what I just told you. Okay?"

"Okay," Carlos agrees, and when she backs away, he heads inside.

"Carlos. Is that you?" she shouts. "Dinner's ready."

Carlos frowns, as he sets his backpack by the door and heads into the kitchen. He sits down at the rectangular, wooden table. He lowers his eyes from his mother and traces the large, long cuts in the table. "Drizella Tremaine wants you to stop turning their cats into clothes."

"But that's so wasteful," she pouts. "When I was a girl, we were expected to use every part of the animals we ate."

"She said if you don't stop killing her mother's cats, that she'll kill me."

"It's just a threat." She squishes the face of the stuffed dog on her shoulder, "Isn't that right my little poodlekins?"

"That's a dalmatian."

She points a finger at him, "Quiet. And Eat." before she sets the cat-shaped roast onto the table. "Bon Appetit."

Carlos uses the large knife to cut the leg from the cat, "What did you turn this one into?"

She shows him her hands, and he sees the orange, striped fur. "Mittens."

It looks like Aziz's cat. Carlos takes three deep breathes, sitting up in bed, before he pushes the bangs back from his sweaty forehead, "It's just a dream."

* * *

When Carlos sits down for lunch, he sees the meat and cheese sandwich on his plate, "Nice. You chose my meal for me."

"If you eat the meat with other things," Aladdin explains, "you won't go through as much of it at a time."

"All I see is bread," Carlos complains, before he takes a bite out of it. "And all I can taste is the cheese."

"It's one sandwich," he negates. "You can handle it."

After Carlos takes two more large bites, Aziz comes into the dining room, "I can't find him anywhere."

"Who?"

"Leo," Aziz worries. "I haven't seen him all morning. I even shook his favorite treats."

"He's probably just sleeping in a cupboard or box somewhere," Jasmine reassures. "Cats are naturally nocturnal, and enclosed spaces make them feel safe."

Carlos thinks, "Does Leo have orange fur?"

"Yes," Aziz excites. "Why? Have you seen him?"

"Me?" Carlos widens his eyes, before he lowers them. "No. No. Of course, not." He glances from Aziz's parents to him, before stuffs the last of the sandwich into his mouth and stands from the table. "I'm just going to go."

"You're not going to ask about dessert?" Aladdin inquires.

"No," Carlos fidgets. "I kind of want to just run, clear my mind and that. "There's a track or treadmill around here, right?" When they fail to answer, Carlos shakes his head, "Never mind. I can find it myself."

"The dungeon," Aladdin answers. "It got turned into a gym. There's a track marked if you don't want to use the treadmill."

Carlos tries to smile, "Thanks." before he walks away and finds the basement door at the other end of the foyer.

Aziz sits down, "He knows something."

"He's just stressed," his father dismisses.

"He's being weird," Aziz reinstates.

"It's early for him," his father recalls. "He's probably just tired."

"And that's why he's going for a run instead of asking for brownies?" Aziz disbelieves.

His father rubs the back of his neck, "Well."

"Having dessert too early in the morning can make you nauseous," Jasmine mentions. "He's probably just not hungry, yet."

"Yes," Aladdin agrees. "I'm sure that's what it is."

"Right," Aziz contemplates, before he places some food onto his plate.

* * *

"Still running?" Aziz notices.

When Aziz steps onto the track, Carlos stops in front of him. He catches his breath, "What are you doing down here?"

Aziz eyes over him, "Checking on you. You've been down here all day."

"I had a nightmare earlier," he explains. "I'm trying not to think about it."

"What was it about?"

Carlos tiredly looks at him, "You don't want to know."

"Was it about my cat?" he tests, and Carlos quiets. "You don't need to worry. I found him. He was under my bed."

"So, he wasn't eaten," Carlos smiles. "That's great."

"Why would my cat get eaten?"

"Oh." Carlos falters, "Well, you know, just if it'd gotten out." He scratches his head, "I don't know what kind of animals live in deserts or, uh, oasies."

"An oasis," Aziz corrects, before he observes him in suspicion. "Have you ever eaten a cat before?"

"What? No," Carlos eyes away. "Of course, not." Aziz stares at him, and Carlos faces him, "I have never killed a cat before."

"You just eat them," he concludes.

Carlos takes a deep breath, "What do you want me to say, Az? I had a fucked-up childhood. I didn't exactly choose what was for dinner when I was five."

"I want you to tell me you never thought about eating my cats," his eyes widen.

He takes a moment, "You're my friend. I wouldn't do that to you."

"And the other hundred million cat owners?" Aziz shouts. "Would you do it to them?"

"This is Auradon," Carlos counters. "I don't need to eat cats to survive here."

"This is Agrabah," Aziz corrects. "And you've been complaining about not having meat, since your first week here."

"I didn't complain that much," Carlos defends.

"You complained enough," Aziz assesses. "If you're willing to eat pets in desperate circumstances—I'm assuming they were pets—then what's stopping you from having mine?"

"I told you." Carlos emphasizes, "You're my friend." before he eyes over him. "Or, at least, you're supposed to be."

Aziz frowns, "What's up with your obsession with meat?"

"What's up with your obsession with plants?" Carlos whimpers, "Don't you think I feel guilty enough? Those animals had families, people who cared and depended on them, and I can't even tell you how many of them I've eaten in my life."

"And none of that makes you think about starting a vegetarian lifestyle?"

The tears fall to his cheeks, but he quickly wipes them away, "I can't have this conversation with you."

When Carlos walks away, Aziz yells, "If you were really sorry, you would."

* * *

Carlos takes another bite of the spaghetti, "Beef's allowed in your religion, isn't it? Why's the meatballs made of tofu?"

"Here we go again," Aziz sighs.

"It's just more humane," Aladdin explains. "We try to keep to a vegetarian diet outside of special occasions."

"And it has more iron than meat," Jasmine mentions. "We know you've been worried about that."

Carlos pokes his fork at the spaghetti, before he looks at the black cat meowing near the table. "Stop it," Aziz stresses.

Carlos frowns at him, "Stop what?"

"Looking at our cats," he protests.

"It was there," Carlos defends.

"Aziz," his father addresses. "What's going on?"

"He eats cats," Aziz divulges, and Carlos places a hand to his forehead.

Aziz's little sister sadly looks at him, "You eat cats?"

"No," Carlos denies, before he faces Aladdin. "My mother ate cats. I just lived with her." The table silences, and Carlos glances between them. "I'm not doing this." He stands from his seat, closes his eyes, and steadies himself.

"Are you okay?" Aladdin concerns.

"Yeah," Carlos sighs. "I probably just stood up too fast. It happens to Evie all the time."

"Evie's anorexic," Aziz rebuttals.

Carlos tiredly gapes at him, and Aladdin suggests, "Maybe you should sit back down and eat more."

"No." Carlos feels the acid in his throat, "I feel sick. I'm lying down." He starts to walk towards the stairs, "There's base in the bathroom, right?"

"Antacids are in the medicine cabinet," Jasmine confirms.

"Jasmine," Aladdin requests, "can you take Aisha and have dinner on the patio?"

"Oh," she realizes. "Of course."

After they leave out the large curtains, Aladdin turns to Aziz, "How did you find out Carlos's mother cooked cats for dinner?"

"The way he was acting," Aziz answers. "When I told him I found my cat, he was so happy to know he wasn't eaten. He assumed Leo got ate by someone or something."

"And then?" he questions.

"And then I asked him if he ate cats, and he lied to me," Aziz asserts. "I know him, I know his expressions, and I know he would eat another cat if it meant getting meat."

His father pauses, "There's one week left. Carlos said he could handle it."

"He also said he doesn't eat cats," Aziz recounts.

"Maybe he doesn't want to."

"Maybe he thinks he'll need to," Aziz distrusts. "Meat is all he ever talks about now."

"So, we keep an eye on him," Aladdin solves.

"No one's keeping an eye on him now," Aziz points out.

"He was feeling sick."

"He was lightheaded," Aziz dismisses. "He's still hungry."

"If he's lightheaded, then he's not catching any cats," his father reassures. "I can check on him after dinner, see where his head is at."

* * *

"Carlos?" Aladdin opens the door, "Carlos?"

"I didn't tell you to come in," he murmurs.

Aladdin walks over to the bed, "You still feel sick?"

"I don't know," Carlos whispers. He pulls up the desk chair and sits, before he feels Carlos's forehead. "Don't touch me."

"I was just feeling how warm you are," he explains.

"Don't," Carlos says again. "You smell weird."

He picks up the half-empty bottle, "How many antacids did you take?"

Carlos hums, "One."

"One?"

"And then three and a handful," Carlos finishes.

Aladdin sighs, "Did it help?"

"Well, I don't have puke in my throat."

He hears the noise, "Was that your stomach?"

Carlos rolls his eyes, "I guess, I'm still hungry." and he turns away from him.

"Maybe we should take you to a doctor."

"And tell them what?" Carlos dismisses. "That I'm going through meat withdrawals?"

"Carlos." He hesitates, "I want to help you."

"Then leave me alone."

"If you need to be taken back to Auradon," he offers, "I can do that."

"It's one week," Carlos shakes. "I can take it."

Aladdin takes a moment, "Aziz is worried about the cats."

"If I eat any of the cats," Carlos's voice raises, "you can kill me."

"I'm being serious."

"So, am I." Carlos tightly holds his stomach, "I'm so hungry, I want to die."

He frowns, "What are you wanting?"

Carlos takes a minute, "How about ham with brown sugar?"

Aladdin nods, "I'll see what I can do."

Carlos comments, "It doesn't sound like you're leaving."

"Well," he begins. "I need to ask what your diet was like on the Isle."

"I told you."

"Tell me again," he requests.

Carlos groans, "My mother made dinner three times a week. The fridge had a lock on it, so I had to find my own food the rest of the week. Sometimes I stole half-rotten apples, dug in the trash behind the cake or butcher shop."

"So, sweets and meat?"

"Oh. No." Carlos explains, "The Isle doesn't have sugar. There's cane sugar, I guess, but mostly the cakes were butter and ripe fruit. And then, after I became friends with Mal and Jay, Jay would help steal food from the actual stalls and stores. And Mal gave me her scraps."

"Were they cooked?"

"Were they cooked?" Carlos repeats. "What kind of question is that?"

"I just need to know."

"Mal used to call me a scavenger," Carlos confides, before he turns towards him. "I promise, I'm not normally this picky."

"Don't worry," Aladdin evenly expresses. "I believe you."

"I'm not going to eat the cats," he assures.

"You better not," Aladdin negotiates, "or you're not getting that ham."

"Where you getting pork in Agrabah?"

Aladdin thinks, "I know a place."


	83. Hard Time

**Hard Time **

**(Sunday Afternoon, August 11****th****)**

"You should know," Evie hesitates, "Mal's been having a hard time learning French."

"She will," Ben nods. "It takes more than a year to learn a language." He gestures to her, "You did well in that summer French class, and I still need to speak English to you."

"Mal is falling really behind," Evie worries. "At this rate it could take years for her to understand basic French."

"So, she needs more help," Ben concludes.

Evie takes a moment, "Honestly. I don't know if Mal has the patience to put so much time and… will into something she's not good at."

Ben's frown deepens, "I'm guessing Mal wasn't born an art expert."

"No," Evie agrees. "She just has talent. It's how her brain works. She drew before she could talk. English was hard for her to. She couldn't talk until she was five."

Ben runs a hand down his face, "Okay. That's pretty bad."

"Maybe she will continue taking it for you," Evie backtracks, "but learning French is going to be just as hard for her as learning English is for you."

"Sorry." Charming walks into the room, "Am I interrupting?"

"Just eating," Ben reassures.

"That's right." Evie mentions, "The pizza is about a thousand calories. The nurse said you can ask to have it refrigerated if you need to break it up."

"Okay," Ben agrees.

She kisses his cheek, "Love you. Bye."

"Um." He watches her head out of the room, "Bye, I guess." He notices Charming's expression and frowns, "She's never done that before."

He sits down, "Is she still dating Mal?"

"Well, yeah," Ben answers.

"But you and Mal are dating again?"

Ben's eyes shift, "Yeah."

"Does that mean you and Evie are together too," he theorizes, "or is she just like Mal's consort or something?"

"What is this," Ben inquires, "the middle ages? I'm not jealous of Evie, and Evie's not jealous of me… anymore. We're friends. We both care about Mal. That's what matters."

"And you care about each other," he assumes.

"Well, yeah. Like I said, we're friends." Ben awkwardly smiles, "What? Did you come here just to ask me about my love life?"

"No." Charming clasps his hands, "Actually, I was wondering if you knew anything about a girl. Beth Fleur?"

"Yeah," Ben shakes his head. "Wasn't she one of Chad's ex-girlfriends?"

"And now they're talking again," Charming continues.

Ben pauses, "What are you hoping to get from me?"

"What do you know about this girl?"

"Nothing," Ben eyes off. "No one knows her. She kept to herself, didn't even show up to class."

"Chad thinks she got the assignments emailed to her," Charming contemplates, "but why would she do that?"

"Maybe she doesn't have the money to live on campus," he offers, before he tries to pick up the pizza; however, the crust is too soft. "Or, maybe, she's terminally ill. That's what I did last year."

"Chad did say she had an eating disorder," he relays.

"But if she is poor," Ben derails, "she wouldn't have had more than a week of in-patient treatment. It would probably just be weekly visits with a therapist and nutritionist."

The nurse walks to the doorway, "King Ben. You have thirty minutes."

"Give me an hour," Ben pleads. "I'm still figuring out how to hold this."

"Did you try to just bite into it?" she suggests.

"Bite into it?"

"Yes." She examples, "Like, if you were to bite into a person."

"Uh," Ben glances from Charming to the nurse, "I'm not good at biting."

"Slide the pizza off the plate and bite into the crust," she instructs.

"But the crust is so tall," Ben disbelieves.

"Your mouth is big enough," she reassures. "You have thirty minutes, before it gets put in the fridge. Don't worry. You'll get another chance to finish it before I call your mother." She nods to the pizza, "Well. Try it." Ben pushes the pizza towards the edge, and he bites the soft crust. "Good."

After the nurse leaves, Charming unsurely says, "Maybe I should let you eat."

"I can't eat and be interrogated at the same time?" Ben stares at the pizza, and Charming falters. "I'm not used to rising crust. The dough's made of shredded cheese, almond flour, and coconut flour. Pushing it up the sides of the pie pan was the only way she could figure out how to keep the toppings on it."

"I thought you weren't allowed to have a lot of cheese," Charming examines.

"Evie convinced the nurse that pizza is a common food and that finding a semi-healthy alternative is better than staying away from it." He smiles, "You know. Because, I will literally eat anything I see."

"Unless you're forced to," Charming finishes.

"The next time I'm craving all the pizza in the world," Ben smiles, "I get to have a quarter of the carbs." He falters, "But, uh, no. I guess, heart disease is a common risk for carnivores—especially carnivores who get the salt-ridden store-bought stuff. The grass-fed stuff from the butcher is lower in saturated fat too, but it's so expensive for the amount I'd need. Even if Mal can keep my temperature down, I could die of a heart attack at thirty-five."

"I'm sorry." Ben doesn't respond, and he questions, "Is your account still…"

"Frozen?" Ben finishes. "I started fresh. My first monthly check got deposited into my new account last week. I can't wait to get out of here and… buy my medicine with it."

"I thought you were going to say you were excited to buy a bunch of healthy meat from the butcher for Evie to cook with."

"I was," Ben breathes, "but then I realized without my medication, I wouldn't live long enough to eat any of it."

"This new account is only listed under your name," Charming reminds him. "There's no reason why your card shouldn't work."

Ben pulls more pizza to the edge, "I hope you're right."

* * *

"A hundred point one," the nurse voices. "Looks like you're free to go."

"Great," Ben grins, before he stands from the bed.

"You need someone to sign you out," she informs.

He falters, "I need to get my pills before the drug store closes, don't I?"

"The pharmacy in the lobby will close in thirty minutes." She suggests, "Call your mother, while I bring you your belongings. You will have more than enough time to get your prescription, while you wait to be signed out."

Ben nods, and after she leaves, he finds his phone. He calls his mother's number, but there's no answer. He tries again; however, the ringing is cut short, and he tries again. His father voices, "Ben. Do you need something?"

"Father?" his heartrate picks up. "Why do you have Mother's phone?"

"We're on a date." He agitates, "Do you mind?"

"No," Ben immediately answers. "Of course, not."

"Do you need something?"

"No," Ben panics. "Have a good night." He hangs up, sitting on the edge of the bed, as he takes deep, fast breaths. His parents are on a date, and he interrupted it. He kept calling, and his father must assume he had a problem with it. He clutches the edge of the bed. He does have a problem with it, and his father will know. He'd be like a third wheel—worse: a wedge between them—and he may very well get slapped for it or punched in the stomach. Whatever works.

"King Ben." He turns to the nurse, and she inquires, "You alright?"

"Yeah," Ben scratches his nose, before he walks over and takes the large Ziplock bag. "Can you close the door? I need to change."

She nods, and after the nurse leaves, Ben switches the hospital grown with the clothes he came in with. He finds his wallet in his pocket, grabs his backpack before walking out of the room, and hurries to the ground floor. He walks up to the pharmacy counter, "Ben Florian. I should have a prescription." The man nods, and Ben pulls out his phone.

When he answers, Charming addresses, "Ben?"

"Hey," he awkwardly smiles. "You're not still in town, are you?"

"No," Charming confesses. "Why? Is something wrong?"

"Wrong?" Ben rushes. "No. Nothing's wrong."

"Ben," he begins.

"I can handle it," he reassures, before he sees the pharmacist. "I got to go."

"Ben," Charming shouts.

Ben hangs up the phone, and he sees the price listed on the register before taking out his debit card. He swipes it, the screen shows it's declined, and his heart beats faster. The man suggests, "Try again." Ben swipes it again, and he places a hand to his head as his vision blurs with tears. "Your Highness." Ben turns the hand into a fist, pounds it onto the counter, and the man back away.

Ben breathes, "Give me a minute." before he wipes the tears from his face and searches his wallet. He pulls out a bill and some change, "I'm a few cents short."

"That's okay," he cautiously steps forward. He takes the remaining cents from the small, ceramic bowl. "You're paid up."

"Thank you," Ben shakily breathes, before he grabs his prescription and leaves through the glass doors. He sits on the bench and feels his warm face. Mal. She could make him feel better. He dials her number and takes a deep breath, "Hey. Mal."

"Hey," she says in surprise.

"Could you come see me?" he shakily requests.

"Are you okay?"

"Could be better," he tries to smile. "The nurse let me go, but now everything is going wrong and I'm just…"

"I'll be there," Mal reassures.

He whispers, "Thank you."

* * *

When Mal enters the lobby, Ben watches as she strides over and hugs him, placing a hand to the back of his neck. "You're warm." She notices the brown, paper bag, "Is that your new medicine?"

"I didn't even have enough to pay for it," Ben informs. "My father probably did something to my new account. I can't use the card. I had to give them all my change."

"When's your next dose?"

Ben ponders, "About now, I guess, but someone needs to sign me out. My parents… They're busy."

"What about Charming?" Mal recalls.

"It was stupid of me to call him," Ben shakes his head. "He wasn't even in town, but I know I worried him. And for what? Because, the nurse says I'm healthy? Because, my parents are on a date?" He starts to cry, "Because, I don't want to be here, I don't want to go home, and I don't have the money to just run away?"

When he sobs, she hugs him tighter, "I can get you out of here."

"Really?" Ben manages.

"Do you know what your mother's signature looks like?"

"Yeah," Ben lifts a shoulder. "I had to sign for her for ESL."

"ESL?" Mal questions.

"English as a Second Language," Ben informs. "It's a class. Kind of."

"I thought you said the school didn't know about your English problems."

"Auradon Prep didn't," Ben informs. "Maurice Elementary did." He glances down and wets his lips, "In preschool the teachers got tired of not understanding me. I was put in ESL, and we had homework—words that we needed to practice to say and know."

Mal frowns, "I'm guessing you didn't do well."

Ben's mouth cracks open, "My mom was busy." before he takes a deep breath. "But… yeah. Long story short, my parents bought the school a computer library, I made it into kindergarten, and my father told me to hide my bad English like my life…" Mal fails to finish his sentence, and he continues, "Because, it did… In more ways than one."


	84. Hide and Seek

**Hide and Seek **

**(Sunday Evening, August 11****th****)**

Ben sees the caller id and answers, "Hey."

Charming comments, "Good. I was about to go see you."

"You already saw me once today," Ben reminds him. "I don't want to be a nuisance."

"Tell me what happened earlier," Charming counters, "and I won't need to."

Ben takes a minute, "It was stupid, but I'm good now. I'm with Evie."

"I'd still like to know what you were so upset about."

Ben half laughs, "You know, I don't even know. Just… all of these small things happened at once. You know how I get."

"I know you call big things small things," he insinuates.

Ben takes a minute, "Charming. I need you to trust me. I'm okay."

He pauses, "I'll see you tomorrow."

Ben hesitates, "Don't take it personally if I don't answer your calls tomorrow. I have something going on."

"Why would I need to call you?"

Ben falters, "Never mind. I'll talk to you tomorrow."

When he hangs up, Evie mentions, "You gave him enough information to find you."

"That's the plan," Ben evenly expresses, before he eyes over her. "Wait. You understood all that?"

"Not everything," Evie smiles, "but enough."

Ben sighs, "At least I'll be able to talk to you in French next summer."

Evie walks closer, "Do you want to talk about it?"

"I just…" A breath escapes him, "I love Mal, and I don't want language to get between us." He folds his hands and rubs them together. "I can't help but think… if she loved me, she'd be wanting to learn my language." He quickly advises, "I know it's hard for her. I get that. I understand that. But…"

Evie finishes, "Right now you're doing the work, and she's not making it easy. You would feel better knowing it won't always be this hard."

"I can hardly—" Ben's brows furrow, "Hard. Hard—ly. Easily. Wait. No."

"You were right the first time," Evie nods. "It's 'hardly'."

Ben takes a moment, "So, adding 'ly' to 'hard' makes it mean you can't do something?"

"No," Evie slowly evaluates. "It means it's hard."

His mouth gapes, "Why can't people just say that?"

"Don't think about it too much," Evie suggests. "You were saying?"

"I can hardly talk to her," Ben continues, "and it's like nothing happened. I'm having a hard time talking to her, and she's still asking if I want to try anything new."

"I told you," Evie reminds him, "you need to tell her you don't want to."

"Tell me she takes it well," Ben commands. "Can you promise me that?"

"I can promise she will take it better than you pushing her away," Evie asserts.

Ben shakes his head, "I don't want to talk about this."

"Okay." Evie thinks, "How about we talk about Beth? If you want her social media to look real, you're going to need pictures."

"I know," Ben sighs. "A human hair wig… and I can't wear sunglasses forever." He faces her, "Charming is going to want to have me—Beth—over for dinner, once Chad and Beth start dating again. You know, labels and stuff."

"You need to make it so that the man who practically raised you won't figure out he knows you," she understands.

"My voice," Ben concerns, "as middle staff as it is, it's still..."

"It needs to be higher," Evie agrees.

"If I try to do it," Ben frowns, "it's not going to sound real."

"There's a potion for that," Evie reassures, before she gets her purse and takes a notebook from it. "Doug and I found a bunch of my mother's stuff in a cave at the reservation on my birthday," she smiles. "A special present from my dad. He's been helping me translate it into English." She opens it and searches for the page, before she points, "This one." She sits next to Ben, "It makes you sound younger. A few sprays of this in the throat and you could have the voice of your dreams."

Ben wets his lips, "What's the… you know. The problems."

She glances at the bottom of the page, "If you use it too much, you can temporarily lose your voice." before she notes his worry. "It would come back, though."

Ben nods, "Let's try it."

"I don't have all the ingredients," Evie informs. "It will be a few days."

"That's fine," Ben's frown deepens. "I can't get a wig until my account is unfroze anyway. And I need to keep the money I have if I'm getting it."

"Are you going to talk to Chad tonight?" Evie inquires.

"Probably should." Ben excuses, "In case Charming tells him I'm missing tomorrow."

* * *

"What do you mean, Ben's been released?" Charming disbelieves.

"His mother picked him up yesterday," she informs, "signed him out."

Charming walks out of the hospital and pulls out his phone. He calls Ben, the ringing is brought to the voicemail, and he sighs. Ben said he wouldn't be able to answer calls today. Charming tries Belle's cell and waits for her to answer. "Good afternoon. When were you going to tell me you signed Ben out of the hospital?"

"What?" Belle appalls. "I didn't sign him out."

"Well, the receptionist seems to think you did," he enforces. He hears the phone mic get covered, as mumbling whispers scrape in the background. "Belle. What's going on?"

She uncovers the phone, "Are you still at the hospital?"

"Currently," Charming comments.

"Adam and I are on our way," she informs. "Don't go anywhere."

After the call ends, Charming tries Ben's phone again; however, there's still no answer. He takes a moment, before he calls Chad, "Hey. You haven't heard from Ben, have you?"

"Uh," Chad thinks. "Ben? No."

"Chad," he seriously replies, "if he talked to you, I need to know."

Chad takes a minute, "He sent a message, but I'm not allowed to talk to him."

"Right." Charming questions, "What did the message say?"

"He just asked if I was up," Chad dismisses. "I ignored him." Charming takes a minute, and Chad asks, "Why? What's going on?"

"Ben's not in the hospital," he informs, "and his parents don't know where he is."

"He's missing?" Chad slowly doubts.

"If you hear from him, let me know," Charming asserts, before he sees the car pull in the lot. "I have to go."

When they walk over to him, Belle informs, "He's not answering his phone."

Charming nods, "When I talked to him yesterday, he said not to take it personally if he didn't answer today."

"And you didn't think to question that?" Adam interrupts.

Charming evenly faces him, "I asked him why I would need to call him. He said I was right and that we would talk today."

"So, he lied," Adam enforces, and Charming sighs again.

Belle walks through them, "Come on. I want to see that signature." They walk inside, and Belle walks over to the front desk. "I'd like to see proof that I signed my son out yesterday."

She pulls out a tablet and searches through it, before she hands it to her, "Here."

Adam comments, "It looks like your signature."

"But it's not," Belle turns to them. "Ben forged it."

"But she said she saw you," Charming counters, "so how did he make her believe that?"

"Magic," Adam infuriates. "That pixie—"

"Adam," Belle takes his arm, before she faces the receptionist. "I want camera footage. I need to know if anyone was with him."

"You're going to need to talk to someone else." She explains, "I don't have access."

"Then get someone who does," Adam sternly responds.

She picks up the landline, makes the call, and nods. She turns back to them, "He said it will take a while to find it, but you're welcome to—"

Belle nearly rolls her eyes, "Where's Dr. Roberts?"

* * *

"From my understanding," Dr. Roberts informs, "his temperature went back to normal and the nurse said he could call someone to get him."

Adam rubs his neck, and Charming informs, "He called me to see if I was still in town."

"But he should have called me," Belle takes out her phone. "If you weren't in town, then…" She sees the call log, before she turns to him, "Adam? Did Ben call me yesterday?"

"He was interrupting our date," he excuses.

"Seriously?" her jaw drops.

"Look." He reasons, "I asked him if he needed anything. He said he didn't."

"In any case," Dr. Roberts continues, "Ben had to pick up his medication before he left."

"Thank you," she says, before she walks out of the room, and Charming and Adam give one another an irritated look before following her.

* * *

"Yes," he confirms. "King Ben picked up his prescription yesterday, but, I guess, his pockets aren't as big as people think they are."

"What do you mean?" Charming interrupts.

"Well," he explains, "the king's card was declined, and he didn't have enough cash to pay for it."

"So, he didn't get the medication?" Belle worries.

"No. He did." The man hurries, "Luckily, he was only a few cents short, so I took some coins from the community pot for him."

Belle breathes in relief, before she faces Adam, "You wouldn't know why Ben's brand-new account isn't working, would you?"

"I can't pay for the castle on a peasant's income," he puts forth.

She laughs, "So, it's about the money. Again."

"We need the protection," he insists.

"And now our son is somewhere on this Earth with no money, alone, and with less than a month's worth of medication to keep him alive," she angers.

"Ben's resourceful," Adam disagrees. "He has ways of getting the things he needs, but that's not even going to matter. Because, this is nothing more than another one of his sick tactics to break us apart."

Belle stares into his eyes, "You do that just fine on your own."

"Um," the pharmacist interrupts. "Do you have any more questions?"

The room silences, and someone voices from the lobby, "Queen Belle?"

They turn around, and another man mentions, "I have that footage for you."

"Well," Adam intrudes. "Let us see it."

He walks over to them and turns the large tablet towards them. Mal and Ben stand in front of the front desk, Ben signs the paper, and Mal looks into her eyes. "Is there any audio for this?" Belle requests.

"Uh," he turns the tablet back and taps the screen a few times. "Here."

The camera footage changes view, and Mal's eyes glow, "You don't remember Ben signed himself out. You remember that Belle came here, she signed it, and they left together. You are tired, too tired to watch us leave."

"That's enough." Belle takes a deep breath, "Let's talk to Mal."

* * *

"We saw you on camera, escorting Ben out of the hospital," Belle urges. "Where is he?"

Mal's eyebrows raise, "I'm not telling you anything."

Adam pushes her into the room until she hits the bathroom door, and he wraps a hand around her neck, "Tell me where my son is."

"You act like this," Mal spats, "and you wonder why Ben doesn't want to come home?"

He squeezes her throat, "Tell me. Now!" and her eyes glow. She stares into his blue eyes, and his hand relaxes. He steps back, and Mal's eyes fade.

When Adam strides out of the room, Belle inquires, "What did you do?"

She hesitates, "I don't really know."

Charming notices the red water on her leg, "Are you bleeding?"

Mal glances down, before she sadly smiles, "I was just in a lot of pain. Excuse me." She turns the knob and steps into the bathroom. "I have a bath to finish."

When the door closes, Belle analyzes, "We interrupted a cutting session."

"Should we stop her?" Charming asks.

Her eyes widen, "Adam." before she hurries out of the room.

Charming follows her, "What are you doing?"

"Mal's not the only one with painful memories," Belle reminds him, before she strides through the dining room arch and heads into the kitchen. "Adam." His jacket is off, and when he turns towards them, a large knife is in his hand. "Adam. Put the knife down."

"I'm the reason he's gone," Adam divulges. "Everything I've done—"

"Was to do what you thought was right," Belle steps forward. "Ben's not gone. We can find him."

"But he won't come back." Adam confesses, "I've made too many mistakes."

She walks up to him, "Exactly. They were mistakes. Everyone makes mistakes."

"Not mistakes like mine," he disagrees. "I'm broken."

"And I will be here for you." She places a hand to his face, "No matter what."

"I can't keep hurting you, Belle," he whispers. "If I'm gone, you would be safe, and Ben could be happy." He turns towards Charming, "Just promise me you'll keep an eye on her." before he faces her. "I worry about what Ben might do to you."

"Adam," she places her other hand on his arm, as tears invade her eyes. "I love you. So much. Please. Drop the knife." She pleads, "For me." His grip loosens, the knife clatters on the floor, and she turns toward the archway. "Charming. Go home. It's going to be a long night."

* * *

"It's Mal," Evie looks up from her phone. "She says your parents found out she got you out of the hospital."

"Merde," Ben realizes. "Is she okay?"

"Well, she texted us," Evie reminds him, "so yeah. Anyway, your parents don't know you're here."

"Good," Ben nods, before he feels his phone vibrate. "It's Chad's number."

"Well, pick it up," she suggests.

Ben smiles, before he answers, "Hey, Charming."

He pauses, "It's me, Ben."

Ben lifts a shoulder, "Works either way. I didn't think you were going to let Chad call me unsupervised."

He takes a moment, "Where are you?"

"I told you." Ben looks at her, "I'm with Evie."

"So, you're at the castle," he disbelieves.

"You ditched my parents, right?" Ben assumes, "You went home and realized I never said I wouldn't answer for Chad."

He hears the disappointment in his voice. "Did Evie tell you I would?"

"No," Ben shakes his head. "I'm just observant. And I didn't have a lot of options."

"Maybe you would make it on the Isle," Charming comments.

"Thank you."

"Your parents are really worried about you," he informs.

Ben hums, "I'm sure they think they are."

"I know this is hard," Charming mentions, "but you can't hide forever."

"My life is absolute Hell," he sadly replies. "I have all the money in the world sitting in two accounts, and I can't even use it to keep me alive. Much less enjoyment." He frustrates, "All this time in the hospital and I still can't stop thinking about soda. Everything sucks right now."

Ben watches Evie leave the room, and Charming suggests, "Let's meet."

"So you can hand me over to my parents," Ben finishes.

"Do you really think that little of me?" Charming takes offense. "I know they neglect you, but they clearly have some mental health issues. You need to understand that."

"You're not helping your case," Ben irritably replies.

"Your parents never go into the East Wing?" Charming questions.

"Sometimes Mother checks on Evie," Ben evenly expresses, "but not really."

"Hold on," Charming thinks. "Are you staying in the East Wing or in Evie's room in the East Wing?"

"Mostly Evie's room," Ben answers. "Why?"

"Where do you sleep?"

"In the bed." Charming stays silent, and Ben prods, "What? Lutherans don't believe in sleepovers before marriage?"

"Mal doesn't mind you sharing a bed with her girlfriend?" Charming mentions.

"Last I checked," Ben informs, "Evie's fairly homosexually inclined."

"She kissed you," Charming comments. "You don't find sharing a room with her weird?"

"On the cheek," Ben defends, "and no. I don't."

"You get agitated without exercise," Charming recalls. "And you're used to having a lot of space."

"What do you recommend?" Ben asks, "That I talk to my parents so that I can hide in the office again? The only exercise I get is walking to the kitchen, anyway."

"Come stay with us," Charming invites. "We can say it's just until the school year, that you needed space."

"What about Chad?" Ben mentions. "I'm not allowed to even talk to him, and now you're asking me to move in."

"There's enough room," Charming counters. "And you keep different hours."

"And, yet, we're best friends and he's crushing on me." Ben states, "That's not going to work. You know it won't."

"Ben." Charming hesitates, "You know I think of you as my own son. I care about your wellbeing. If you need a safe space, I'm offering."

Evie comes back into the room, and Ben grins. Evie places the tray on the bed, and Ben switches to English, "Do you have a personal cook who knows how to feed carnivores?"

"You know we don't have a chef," Charming evenly replies.

"Well, I do." Ben grins when he faces Evie, "And she is beautiful in everything she does." He picks up the Diet Coke. "You know where I am and how to reach me."

"Ben," he emphasizes.

"I'd love to talk," Ben interrupts, "but my cookies really want to get ate. It would be sad if they got hypothermia before they died."

"Ben," Charming says again.

"Got to go." Ben hangs up and opens the soda, "I love you."

"Are you talking to me or the soda?"

He awkwardly smiles at her, "Both?"

"Aww." Evie sits next to him and gives a side hug, "I love you too."


	85. Do What I Say

**Do What I Say **

**(Monday Morning, August 12****th****)**

"You're getting him a ham," Aziz disbelieves.

"I'm just trying to make things easier for him," his father reasons. "He's been very well behaved. I want to reward that."

"Well behaved?" Aziz points out, "He's been ungrateful and uncompliant."

"He's been hungry," Aladdin corrects, as he places more jellied toast onto his plate. "You would be surprised of the things I've done to get a meal. Carlos is a survivalist from the Isle of the Lost, raised to believe cats are fair game."

"So, you're rewarding him for not eating our pets?" Aziz concludes.

"He's been here for three weeks," Aladdin reminds him. "We're lucky he hasn't."

"He's not as hungry as you think," Aziz crosses his arms. "Carlos has been eating everything, especially the chocolate. And you just got him a ton of lunchmeat. There's a week until the school opens. He doesn't need an entire ham."

Aladdin glances at Jasmine before facing Aziz, "I think Carlos might have a certain medical problem. I want you to take it easier on him."

"A medical problem?"

"He eats all this high calorie food," Aladdin mentions, "and he's not gaining any weight, he's craving meat, and his mood is getting worse."

"He can't stop thinking about food," Jasmine adds.

"Which means he is hungry," Aladdin disproves. "His brain fog is proof of that."

Aziz eyes between them, "What are you saying? You think he's sick?"

His father sighs, "I think he has the virus."

"The virus?" Aziz's eyes widen. "As in…"

"There's no way to know for sure without getting him tested," he backtracks, "and Carlos doesn't want to see a doctor."

"Then make him," Aziz requests. "If we have a vampire or something staying with us, we need to know."

"We wouldn't," his father dismisses. "I looked it up. Testing for a retrovirus can be time-consuming. He'd be gone by the time we got the results back."

"So, what do we do?" Aziz asks.

"Make him comfortable," his father instructs. "And stop telling him you're morally superior for restricting your meat intake."

"I never said that."

"If Carlos really has the virus," he reminds him, "then he's morally superior for keeping to an animal diet. Stop making him feel guilty for it."

"If he's survived this long, then he can take it," Aziz asserts.

"It takes a month for the average person to starve to death," his mother frowns.

"And if there's food around," Aladdin informs, "most people will eat before then."

"So, the cats?" Aziz concerns.

"Or us," he reminds him.

"But it will be a month next week," Aziz recalls.

"Close. Yes," his father confirms.

"Then he can't stay here," he concludes.

"I told him if he needed to go back to Auradon, I could take him," his father informs, "but he said he can handle another week."

Aziz takes a moment, "Maybe it's not as bad as you think."

"He said he's so hungry, he wants to die," his father counters.

Aziz stares at him, "Then why is he staying here? Carlos isn't stupid. He's really into science. He probably knows what this is."

"Maybe he doesn't want to admit it to himself," his mother suggests.

Aladdin faces Aziz, "Honestly. I think he's afraid of disappointing us."

"So, how do we get him to leave?" he questions.

"I mean, you could try talking to him." He sets a small item onto the table, "But keep this on you, please."

Aziz takes it, "Is this pepper spray?"

"Don't get too close to him right now," his father recommends. "Hunger can do a number to your head. If he is infected, it might not matter that you're his friend."

"Carlos wouldn't want to hurt me," Aziz disagrees.

"Of course, not," his father agrees. "And if he does hurt you, I'm sure he will regret it."

"We just want you to be safe," his mother explains. "Just in case."

"Yeah." Aziz stares at the spray, "I understand."

* * *

"Carlos?" Aziz smiles, "Hey. How did you sleep?"

"Not awesome." Carlos glances from his assigned room to Aziz, "What? Were you just standing out here all day, waiting for me?"

"I want to apologize for yesterday," he admits.

Carlos shakes his head, before he walks past him, "What's for breakfast?"

He follows him down the stairs, "My dad got you that ham."

"Good," Carlos sighs. "I'll try to not eat it all in one day."

"Or," Aziz suggests, "if you do eat it all today, you could go back to Auradon."

He turns around, "What?"

"It's been hard for you here," Aziz acknowledges. "I don't want you to suffer."

"You're not making any sense." Carlos turns back around and heads into the kitchen. He opens the fridge, "Where is it?"

"Pork?" Aziz thinks, "It's probably wrapped in tinfoil inside a Ziplock bag to avoid contamination."

"Contamination?" Carlos finds it and takes it out, before he opens it up and sniffs, "It smells like it's cooked."

"We're technically not supposed to touch pork," Aziz explains. "My dad probably put it in the fridge like that so that Mom wouldn't be afraid to eat the other foods."

"I'm allowed to use a knife and plate, right?" Carlos inquires, "Or does pork just never wash off?"

"You'll need to wash them yourself," Aziz compromises.

"That's right," Carlos recalls, before he finds the large knife. "You're not eating pepperoni anymore."

"I need to stay pure," Aziz confirms. "The purer I am, the closer I am to God, and the better God can help me." He watches Carlos slice the ham, "Anyway. I think it would be a good idea for you to go home."

Carlos takes a bite of the ham, "Why do you want me to go so bad?" before Aziz's eyes lower. "Is it because you like me?"

"I can see this whole vegetarian thing isn't working for you," Aziz bypasses. "It's almost been a month. If you're missing something in your diet, I don't want you to get hurt."

Carlos stares at him, "I don't get it. You were just telling me how sucky of a person I was yesterday for—"'

"I know," Aziz interrupts. "I'm sorry. You are moral, considering how you were raised."

"What kind of apology is that?" Carlos emphasizes, "How I was raised?"

"I'm just saying," Aziz excuses, "if eating meat keeps you from looking at my cats like your next dinner, then I'm okay with that."

Carlos shouts, "Get out."

Aziz gapes, "This is my palace."

Carlos strides towards him, "I said 'get out'!"

There's loud footsteps, before Aladdin comes into the kitchen, "Carlos." He eyes from him to Aziz, "What's going on here?"

"We're just talking," Aziz simplifies, and Carlos glares at him.

"Carlos?" Aladdin inquires.

He continues to pierce his eyes at Aziz, "Me? I just woke up. I'm trying to eat."

Aladdin notices the ham on the counter, "Aziz. Come with me."

After they leave the kitchen, Aziz reminds him, "You told me to talk to him."

He turns towards him, "You couldn't wait until after he ate?"

"It's important that he leaves," Aziz insists.

"I know," his father breathes, "but he could have killed you."

"I have the spray," Aziz reassures.

"And you didn't use it," his father's voice raises. Aziz falters, and he shakes his head, "Go to your room."

"He's not that dangerous," Aziz denies.

"Even your own mother wouldn't lock herself in the dungeon with her pet tiger if he weren't fed," his father disproves. "If Carlos has the virus, humans are his natural prey."

"I don't believe it," he dismisses. "Carlos would never want to hurt anyone."

"Go to your room," his father repeats. "Stay there until lunch."

* * *

When Carlos sits down, Aziz notices him makes a face, "Something wrong?"

"Just the smell," Carlos diminishes.

"I thought you'd be grabbing something from the kitchen, "Aladdin comments.

"Yeah," Carlos eyes over the table. "I'd like to make the meat last four days. I can't have any more right now." He points, "Is that peanut butter and jelly?"

"That? It is," he confirms.

"Awesome," Carlos takes two of the sandwiches. "How many?"

"Just make sure to leave four," Aladdin answers. "Take two at a time."

Aisha reaches for the plate, "I'm having one."

Aziz catches Carlos eye her wrist, "That's my little sister."

"And?" Carlos faces him. "Wait. You think I'm going to eat her, now?"

"You were looking at her wrist," he accuses.

Carlos gapes, "I zoned out. What? You never get tired?" Aziz fails to respond, and Carlos questions, "Do you make it a habit of making friends with cannibals or do you just think I'm one because I'm from the Isle?"

"Your friends eat people," Aziz asserts.

"Not really," Carlos defends. "I have a couple friends who are carnivores. Is that a problem for you?"

"Of course, not," Aziz sighs.

"Then what?" Carlos presses.

"You were right earlier," Aziz faces him, and Carlos's expression softens. "I don't want to be around you, until you get a girlfriend."

Carlos whispers, "What's that supposed to solve?"

"I need to know you only think of me as a friend," Aziz explains.

"If I dated a girl for you," Carlos comments, "all that would prove is that I care about you." He looks from Aziz to Aladdin to the sandwiches, "I'm going back to sleep." He stands from his seat, "Save me some."

After Carlos goes back up the stairs, Aziz's father gives him a look, "Is that the kind of talk I interrupted earlier?"

Aziz's eyes lower, "Not entirely like that."

His father pinches the bridge of his nose, "Help me understand why you felt the need to interrogate your friend."

"Actually," Aziz reassures, "all I said earlier was that if eating meat kept him from eyeing our cats, then I was fine with it."

"So, he's a savage, now?"

"I never said that," Aziz denies.

"If you treat an animal like a savage," his mother informs, "that's what they become."

"So," Aziz analyzes, "I shouldn't have told him that?"

"Or the other dozen things. I just… don't even know where to start." He looks at his wife, "Jasmine. Can you handle this?"

She faces Aziz, "It's unlikely that Carlos chose to get infected. Identifying him as his disease is highly insensitive, and even though it's great that he's been able to fight his instincts for those he cares about, he probably doesn't want to brag about not eating anyone or their pets when most people wouldn't even want to."

"Right." Aziz considers, "I guess I can see how someone would see that as being called a savage. I'm sorry."

"Don't tell me that." She suggests, "Tell him that."

"After he wakes up," Aziz's father reminds him. He nods, and Aladdin asks, "And what's up with you not wanting him around without a girlfriend?"

"I think I already explained that," Aziz counters.

"If Carlos wants to break the law, that's his choice," Jasmine mentions. "His life decisions shouldn't have any impact on you."

"Maybe 'choice' isn't the right word," Aladdin comments.

"God doesn't make mistakes," she asserts. "He gave freewill. Carlos chose that lifestyle."

Aladdin silences, before he suggests, "How about I talk to him outside. Aisha's too young to hear about this stuff."

"Sounds good," she agrees.

He stands and nods Aziz over to the patio, "Come on."

When his father starts to walk away, Aziz follows him past the dense curtains and onto the stone porch, "So, um."

He crosses his arms, as he leans on the railing, "Come over here." Aziz walks over, and his father mentions, "You see a lot of things on the street. You hear a lot of stories." He pauses, "And I'm not convinced Carlos's sexual habits are entirely a choice."

"You don't?"

He shakes his head, "No. I believe that someone's environment can encourage them to act a certain way, but they need the natural attraction to make that work. Maybe Carlos can find a friend who's a girl who he can make a life with… or, maybe, he can't." He faces him, "Either way, he can't make you do something you don't want to do. Homosexuality is not contagious." He brings a hand to his chest, "I knew plenty of people on the streets who got kicked out of their homes for that kind of behavior, and being around them never changed the way I felt about girls. If you're worried that his sexuality will somehow rub off on you, you don't need to."

Aziz hesitates, "I know it's not contagious."

"Then what is it?"

He places an arm on the railing and stares out at the courtyard, "I just think things would be easier if I didn't know it was a choice, if I never knew there's people who think that way."

"It's called ignorance." His father points out, "There would still be people like that out there. As a political figure, it's better that you know the truth."

"Dad," Aziz starts. "You know I've never had a crush before."

"I know," he acknowledges.

"But I care about Carlos more than anyone I've known," he admits, "and if he has a crush on me, what's stopping me from seeing where it goes?"

His father takes a minute, "Aziz. Homosexuality is against the law."

"And God's law. I know." He continues, "And I want to be good, but—"

"This isn't about being good," his father turns towards him. "God told us how to live our lives thousands of years ago. Now we have too many people and not enough resources to go around. Who's to say multiplying is the best thing for humans now." He asserts, "What I'm worried about is your safety. No one in this kingdom will want what they perceive as an unholy ruler—not to mention the extremists."

"I'm just telling you this," Aziz whispers, "so that I have someone to hold me accountable." His father settles, and he continues, "You're probably going to have to choose my wife for me. You know, when I take the throne at twenty-one."

"You've never thought about girls?" he doubts. "Not once?"

"I tried to a few times," Aziz shakes his head, "but nothing… natural."

"So, back when you were starving yourself to keep yourself from thinking about sex," he recalls, "what were you thinking about?"

Aziz stares at the ground, "Not girls."

"But you said you've never had a crush on anyone," his father ponders.

He faces him, "I don't know what a crush is supposed to feel like."

"Do you think about kissing him?" he inquires.

"I did kiss him." He shakes his head, "I don't know if I did it because I liked him or because I needed to see and I knew he wouldn't mind."

"See what?"

"If I'd like it or… I don't know," he falters.

He takes a moment, "Can you imagine your life without him in it?"

"Of course, not," Aziz dismisses. "He's like my only real friend." His father fails to speak, and he questions, "Are you going to tell Mom about this?"

"No," he frowns. "I don't want her to know until you're sure." He looks at him, "If this gets any worse, tell me."

"Okay."

"And this goes without saying," his father instructs, "but don't—"

"Get caught," he finishes.

"No. Any crime done on a regular basis is going to get you caught." He widens his eyes at him, "Don't kiss Carlos again. If you do, I'm going to have to talk your mother into letting Aisha take the throne. I won't let you end up dead."

"Agrabah is going to wonder why the male heir isn't inheriting the crown," Aziz gapes. "They might kill me, anyway." His father sighs and faces out towards the garden. "Dad?"

"Go," he softly speaks, "and do what I say."


	86. Precaution

**Precaution **

**(Monday Night, August 12****th****)**

"Jay?" Belle knocks on the door, and she doesn't hear anything, she opens the door. "Have you seen Mal? I can't find her."

"Did you try Evie?" he offers.

"She's not there," Belle affirms.

Jay takes a deep breath, "Damn." before he pulls out his phone. "She was saying that her therapist recommended more sessions to the court. She was really mad about it."

"More sessions?" she questions.

"Yeah," Jay sighs. "They're really trying to domesticate the crap out of her, but, luckily, Carlos convinced me to bug her phone with this crazy app." He taps the screen, "I know where she is. We should catch up with her."

"Right," Belle agrees, before she pulls out her phone and makes a call. "Yes, Travis. Thank you."

* * *

"This road," Jay commands.

"To the left," Belle instructs, and when they turn, Belle points. "There."

He sees Mal tag a blue car with red spray paint, before he shouts, "Stop the car." Travis pulls over, and Jay rushes outside. He sees Mal pull a crowbar from her bag, runs down the road, and raises his arm to catch it. "What are you doing? You're on parole."

"My parole ended today," she dismisses.

"Then why are you still chained to that bracelet?" Jay gestures to the ankle monitor.

"It would be off right now," Mal seethes, "if that witch didn't lie to the court."

"Her job was to make you get along with humans," he reminds her.

"And surprise, surprise," Mal widens her eyes. "She sucked at her job." Mal raises the bar again, and Jay wraps his arms around her before twisting her away from the car. "Get off my back. I know what I'm doing."

"No. You don't." Jay whispers, "You're the most powerful person here, you're on track to make yourself rich and respected, and you're going to give it up for revenge so small that no one will even remember it next month."

"I didn't need a title on the Isle to be respected," Mal reminds him.

"I thought you loved Ben," Jay disbelieves. "Why are you doing this?"

"I might love Ben," Mal argues, "but he doesn't love me."

"What are you talking about?"

"This is never going to work," Mal's pitch raises. "I'm not the girl of his dreams, if you can even call me that. Dragon. Fairy. Demon. No one here sees me as just a girl."

"That's because girls aren't powerful here," Belle frowns, and Mal looks at her. She steps forward, "You're powerful, and people see that. Believe me, if someone is pointing out that you're a girl here, you're doing something wrong."

Jay lets go and faces Mal, "Everything you could ever want is going to be yours. Don't let your feelings get in the way of that."

"It's time to go home," Belle agrees.

Mal drops the crowbar, as she starts to cry, "I'm not the girl Ben wants."

"No." Belle places her hands on Mal's shoulders, "You will be much, much more."

* * *

"I would hold off on that," Travis comments, when he sees the brunette pull out her phone. Her soft blue eyes meet him, and he explains, "I'm here on behalf of Queen Belle."

She frowns, "The queen can't buy me off. This girl needs help."

"Then help her," he evenly expresses, before he hands her the envelope. "Tell the court you were mistaken so that Mal can move on with her life."

"She can't be left alone," the therapist counters.

"Then let someone else take over," he negotiates. "What you're doing isn't working. Maybe someone else will have better luck."

"Mal's dangerous," she debates. "I'm not putting someone else in a dragon's line of fire."

"Is she dangerous," Travis counters, "or are you just biased?" She silences, and he continues, "You're too close to this case, and you know it." He nods to the envelope, "You can either take the money or lose your job." He warns, "It would be a shame if the judge found out that Maleficent ate your father and burned your home to the ground and that you're putting the sins of the mother on a child who has done nothing but improve since her stay here."

She gestures to the car, "Does this look like improvement to you?"

He shrugs, "You're still alive, aren't you?" She stares at him, and he advises, "You diagnosed her with borderline personality disorder. Find someone who can compassionately treat her for it."

* * *

Mal runs her hand over the skin of her ankle, "It feels so good to be free."

Adam whispers to Belle, "How is she free?"

Belle looks at Mal, "Your new therapist has asked that you have video sessions, until you've built trust with her. Just a small precaution, given your skills."

"Skill," Adam scoffs.

Mal stands up and glows her eyes at him, "Tell me, what's your problem with me?"

"You're putting us all in danger," Adam proclaims. "Do you know how long it took for us to earn the country's trust, and now—out of all people—my son has chosen the daughter of the most evil villain in history to take our name?"

"Oh," Mal's eyes widen. "I'm not taking anyone's name. You don't need to worry about there being a Mrs. Ben Bertha or however names around here work."

"That is a little old-fashioned," Belle acknowledges, before she turns to Adam. "Woman aren't property anymore. I'm sure you know that."

He readjusts his tie, "That, I do." before he eyes down at Mal. "You can tell the new king your demands, once he shows his face. Where might we find him again?"

"Funny," Mal strains a smile. "I don't recall ever saying."

"But you do know," he insists.

"You can check my phone," Mal shows him the purple cell. "I honestly have not talked to him since he ran away."

He snatches it from her, "Let me see that." and Mal widens her eyes. He taps the phone and shakes his head, "Why are your apps so small? Belle."

"I'll help," she smiles, as she takes the phone from his big hands. "Okay." She finds the messages, "Mal's being honest. She hasn't texted Ben in weeks." She shows the phone to him, "See. The date's right there."

"What about Evie?" Adam thinks. "Maybe they talked about it."

"Uh," Mal opens her mouth. "You're not going to want to look at those."

"Why?" Adam insinuates, "Something to hide?"

"Oh, my," Belle covers her mouth.

"Just the nudes she sent me," Mal answers.

Belle turns the phone upside down before handing the phone to Mal, "You're going to want to delete those before the school year starts. Gossip can be a horrid thing."

"I wouldn't worry too much about that." Mal examines her nails, "No one at that school would dare objectify my girlfriend." before she meets her brown eyes. "But I see your point."

"Wasn't that why she was dating Doug?" Belle inquires. "She got sexually harassed last year, because rumor was she's homosexual."

"That?" Mal smiles, "That's just a small precaution."

"So, you have no idea where Ben is?" Adam asks again.

Mal purses her lips as she shakes her head, "I have no idea what he's doing right now."

* * *

"You really don't need to do this," Ben unsurely says.

Evie stands from the sewing machine, "It's already done." before she tosses the shirt to him. "Try this on."

He pulls the stretchy, black material over his tank top, "It's a little tight on the shoulders."

"Right," Evie evaluates. "I could make shoulder holes."

He sits on the end of the bed, "This is useless." before he places his head in his hand and looks at her. "You know, now that you're upping my protein, my arms are going to start growing again. I'm going to rip anything you make apart."

"Okay," Evie grabs the drawing pad and sits next to him. "Back to the drawing board. You need something that can't be ripped."

"But that will also hide everything," Ben concerns.

"How about a blouse?" Evie inquires.

"A blouse?"

"Yes." Evie smiles, "A loose, see-through, long-sleeved shirt. You can have it over a tank top." She points, "Just not the kind you're wearing."

"Don't girl tank tops have, uh, things in them?" he questions.

"Bras?" She thinks, "Not all of them. I think that's more for kids. You know, when you start getting a figure, but your boobs aren't big enough for a bra." Ben doesn't speak, and she continues, "Anyway, you're going to want something tight under the see-through shirt."

"I don't know," Ben's eyes lower. "I don't have a good shape to show off."

"Nonsense," Evie dismisses. "You're beautiful, and you don't need boobs or a tiny waist to show people that."

"Would you stop trying to be nice?" Ben voices.

Evie falters, "I'm not."

"You are," Ben insists, "and all it's doing is making me feel worse."

She takes a moment, "How can I help?"

"You can stop calling me beautiful," he solves.

"But you like it," she counters.

"But I'm not," Ben protests. "Be honest. Do you really think I'm beautiful?"

"Of course, I do," she whispers.

"Funny," he counters, "because you're the only one who calls Ben that." He frowns, "And Mal. Did you tell her to call me that?"

"No," Evie sadly answers, and Ben looks away. "She dates feminine people. She probably didn't even think about it." Ben bites on his knuckle, and Evie asks, "Please. Tell me what I can do."

"For this to work, I need lines—walls."

"Boundaries," she understands.

He faces her, "If this whole Beth thing happens, you can call her beautiful and whatever else, but Ben's king. He can't be beautiful, when people need him to be strong. He's handsome, because he's a guy. And that's what people call guys."

"Are you really happy with that, though?"

"I don't think I'll ever be happy," Ben admits. "My entire life sucks, and I honestly…" He faces her, "I don't know if I'm doing this Beth thing for Chad or if…" He wets his lips, "It would just be nice to be someone else, you know? I really hate the person I am, where I come from, and this is my chance to start new. I can be whoever I want to be. I don't need to be an emotionless king who doesn't speak up. I could just be…"

"You," Evie finishes.

"Girls have it so easy," Ben sighs. "You can feel whatever you feel, and no one second-guesses who you are or if you're not crazy in the head."

"I don't know." She reminds him, "A lot of girls get called crazy."

"Yeah." Ben meets her eyes, "But at least it's not by your friends." He clasps his hands, "Whenever one of my teammates was explaining how his crazy ex broke up with him, I had no problem pointing out what he did wrong. They thought I was some sort of freak."

"Yeah." Evie agrees, "I think you'll definitely have an easier time with the girls." before she turns the page. "I'm going to make a few sketches for Beth. Let me know what you think."

"I was thinking," Ben intrudes, before she faces him. "At the store I saw this one shirt that had these x's crossing down the arms."

"With or without skin?" Evie questions.

"With," Ben answers. "Can we make it loose around the waist and hips? Even flat-chested girls have those."

"Don't worry," Evie reassures. "We'll find something that works."

* * *

\- **Posted**: 07/29/2020

\- **Guest**: Thank you. That's very encouraging.

-Sorry for posting so late, but I really needed to do these chapters in chronological order, since characters from another story appears. Anyway, it took me a while to find a good stopping point for all three stories, since one of them had a time jump. I hope everyone is doing well. Thank you for reading.


	87. Stolen

**Stolen **

**(Wednesday Afternoon, August 13****th****)**

"What's that?" Aladdin asks, as he walks into the kitchen.

Carlos scoops up more pudding from the mixing bowl, "Brownies."

"And you didn't feel like cooking it?"

"That would have taken too long," Carlos frowns. "I was hungry now."

"You could have had a sandwich." He opens the fridge, "Or not." before he grabs the pitcher of iced tea.

Carlos unsurely responds, "Right. I accidently finished the ham yesterday." before Aladdin takes the glass and sits across from Carlos. "Are you mad?"

He takes a moment, "Carlos. You and I come from similar backgrounds, so I feel like I can be straight with you."

Carlos stares at him, "Okay."

"I think there's a strong possibility that you could have the virus." Carlos eyes down, swirling the spoon around the red bowl, and Aladdin questions, "Do you?"

"I have friends who are carnivores, and I don't act like them." He hesitates, "But I see why you would think that." before he gauges his expression. "I've thought about it too."

"You know, there's a test to know for sure," he suggests.

"Is that why you wanted me to see a doctor?" Carlos recalls.

"It would take a week or two to get the results," Aladdin informs, "but if you do have it, I think it's an important thing to know."

"If I do have it, I can't think of when it'd've happened." He frowns, "I don't feel any different. It didn't change me."

"On a biological level, it would have," Aladdin counters. "And this is a contagious disease. If you have it, you have the responsibility to make sure you don't pass it."

"So, it's my fault that I'm like this?" Carlos takes offense.

"No. Of course, not," Aladdin's eyes widen. "You practically grew up on the streets. You could have caught this any time, anywhere, and wouldn't have even known it. I'm lucky I didn't get anything like that."

Carlos shakes his head, "Then, what are you saying?"

"I'm saying it's good to know," he explains, "whether you have it or not. If you do, then you know what's going on. If you don't, then that's going to be a lot less on your mind."

Carlos takes a minute, "No. I don't want to get tested."

He pauses, "Why not?"

"Because," Carlos stresses, "if it comes back and I have it, then… what if it changes me? I know who I am right now, but what if I'm not who I think I am? What if knowing I have a biological reason for doing things makes me feel less guilty about doing those things?"

Aladdin softly answers, "If you're hungry, you're going to do those things whether you want to or not. If you get tested and it comes back positive, you will be given a medical card that will have resources available for you to be able to get the help you need."

"I don't need any help," Carlos denies. "I'm fine."

"Then tell me you can go four days without meat," Aladdin frustrates, "because that's what's going to happen if you pretend everything is fine."

"I can do four days," Carlos challenges.

Aladdin frowns, "Don't do this. I can still take you back to Auradon."

"You told Aziz your little theory about me, didn't you?" Carlos accuses. "That's why he's been acting so weird around me. That's why he pushed me to leave."

"I just told him to be careful," he negates. "I know people can act out of character when they're hungry."

"So, you've had dreams about eating cats?" Carlos assumes.

"It's not safe for you to be here," he continues.

"Me or you?" Carlos debates, "You know what I think? I think you only believe what the news tells you. The virus infects the host and takes over their body and lowers their inhibitions. It doesn't matter how good I am or not. You think I'm going to break and hurt someone."

"Or yourself," he adds. "Why is staying so important to you? What is it exactly that you're trying to prove?"

"If going without meat for four days means Az will stop treating me like a wild dog, then I can do it," Carlos persists.

"That's what I'm afraid of," Aladdin puts forth. "If you do this, these four days could be hell for you. You could seriously get hurt."

"Evie's been locked in a bathroom for entire weeks without food," Carlos counters. "I can last a couple days."

"Four days," Aladdin reminds him, "and you're not anorexic."

"I'm pretty sure Evie didn't ask her mother to lock her in the bathroom and be isolated from her friends," Carlos points out.

"We can discuss the abuse you and your friends went through later," Aladdin bypasses. "This is about you—here and now. Your body isn't used to starvation. You will get hurt."

"It's not like I won't be eating anything," Carlos rebuttals. "There's still all those plants and things you all eat."

Aladdin stares at him, "This isn't some game. This is your life."

He shakes his head, "So?"

Aladdin stands from his seat, "The minute you want to leave, let me know. You and I both know you're going to have to go."

After Aladdin turns around, Carlos comments, "We're out of brownie mix."

"So, make the next batch from scratch." Carlos stays silent, and Aladdin turns around, "You don't know how, do you?" Carlos shakes his head, and he takes a deep breath, "Alright. Let's do this while you're still focused enough."

Carlos watches him take some ingredients from the pantry, "Thank you."

"Yep." He sets the items across the island counter and faces him, "With how much you're going through, it's probably cheaper this way anyway. The best part of making them yourself, you get to choose what's in it." He leans an arm on the counter, "Now, tell me. Did Jasmine figure out gelatin is pigs' fat or did someone eat all the marshmallows?"

"They're fun to bite," Carlos confirms.

"Okay," Aladdin nods. "Is there anything else here that looks fun to bite?"

"The pumpkins and cones."

"Good." He inquires, "Anything else?"

Carlos hesitates, "I'm guessing if boxes need eggs, scratch does too."

"And you'd be correct," Aladdin answers, before he opens the fridge, shuts it, and then claps his hands. "Okay, then." He smiles at him, "How good are you at stealing eggs?"

Carlos's eyes shift, "You mean, like, from a stall or store?"

"From hens," he corrects.

Carlos slowly replies, "I don't think I've seen a hen."

"Well, you're about to see ours," Aladdin declares.

"You're going to want leather gloves," Jasmine mentions, as she enters the kitchen. Carlos faces her, and she walks towards him, "Any mother would attack the thing trying to eat her babies. You understand?"

Carlos uncomfortably smiles, "Uh, yeah. I think I do." before he frowns at Aladdin.

He places a hand on his shoulder, "We should get going. Those eggs aren't going to steal themselves." They walk past Jasmine, and Aladdin turns around, "I'm sorry about lunch."

"Don't worry," she reassures. "The kids are in the dining room. You can tell them on your way out."

When he catches up with him, Carlos comments, "She's something."

"What was I supposed to do?" Aladdin murmurs. "Marry someone who would take it easy on me? I liked her feisty personality. I'm not going to complain that's what I got."

When they pass through the dining room, Aziz interrupts, "Hey." They turn around, and he questions, "Where's lunch?"

"We're getting the eggs now," his father excuses.

"Eggs for lunch?" Aziz doubts.

"We're making brownies," Carlos explains. Aziz glances at him, before he switches to Arabic. Carlos eyes between him and Aladdin, before he whispers, "Almazari." Aziz cuts himself off, and when he looks at him, Carlos comments, "If you don't want me to know where the animals are, you can go instead."

"French and now Arabic?" Aziz complains, "Keep it up like this and you'll know more languages than Doug by the end of the school year."

"How did you know what we were saying?" Aladdin asks.

Carlos shrugs, "Nouns are the same in every language."

"Not Arabic," Aziz disagrees. "And your pronunciation needs work."

"So, are you going to get the eggs," Carlos slowly says, "or…"

"You're coming," Aladdin instructs. "You haven't learned how to steal anything, until you've stolen eggs."

"Are you seriously trying to bond with him now," Aziz argues. "He's a—"

"I don't care what he is or isn't," his father interrupts, "and if you're really his friend, then you wouldn't either." He nods Carlos away, "Come on."

* * *

"You never said William was a vampire," Aladdin mentions, as they stare at the screen.

Aziz shakes his head, "I didn't know."

"It's amazing how predators can hide in plain sight," Jasmine inputs, before they look at her. "Well, look at him. Look at Carlos. They don't look like they drink blood behind closed doors, do they?"

"Carlos doesn't drink blood," Aziz intrudes.

His father considers, "Maybe he should be." and Aziz stands from the couch before heading down the hall and rushing into his room. He closes the door and pulls out his phone, before he finds William's number. It goes to voicemail, he tries again, and it goes to voicemail again, "Yeah. It's Aziz. I saw your interview, and I have some serious questions for you. Why aren't you answering? It's the middle of the afternoon." He places a hand to his forehead, "And I'm an idiot. You're asleep, aren't you?" He takes a deep breath, "Look. It's about Carlos. He's—" The voicemail interrupts, and Aziz sighs before ending the call. There's a knock on the door, and Aziz shouts, "Come in."

His father opens the door and steps inside, "Hey. How's it going?"

He shakes his head, "I thought William might have some answers, but he's asleep."

"You mean, about Carlos," he assumes.

"It's like I don't even know him now."

"You know," he informs, "Carlos really wishes you wouldn't treat him differently."

"So, what?" Aziz disbelieves, "I'm supposed to just pretend he's not sick?"

"Well, yeah." His father points out, "He's still the same guy, and he didn't do anything to deserve this. If he really is suffering from the virus, you should be more empathetic."

Aziz breathes, "Alright. So, where is he?"

"Last I checked, he was setting the record for the most brownies baked and eaten in a single afternoon."

"Seriously?" Aziz irritably replies, before he walks past him and heads to the main floor. He enters the kitchen, and he sees Carlos eating a plate of brownies. "Hey."

"Hey," Carlos suspiciously eyes him.

Aladdin walks towards them, "How's it going?"

Carlos picks up another brownie, "It's going."

"Full yet?" he inquires.

Carlos chuckles, "Never."

Aziz asks, "How much meat have you had today?"

He smiles, "Uh. None."

"Is that safe?" Carlos gives a look, and Aziz glances at his father before facing Carlos. "Just… I mean, because you're not used to not having it."

Carlos gapes at him, "I'm handling it. Okay?"

"I don't think eating your weight in brownies is handling it," Aziz protests.

"There's like three and a half days left," Carlos counts.

"You don't plan on going that long without meat?"

"I know you think I'm infected," Carlos meets his eyes. "If I can go that long without meat, then that means I'm not. And you can stop looking at me like I'm some sort of monster."

Aziz takes a moment, "You're not a monster."

Carlos looks down at the brownies, "What's for dinner?"

"We were thinking about having spaghetti again," Aladdin informs.

"With tofu balls?" Carlos strains a smile. "Sounds good."

Aziz notices his expression falter, "You don't have to eat it."

"I can't just have brownies," Carlos murmurs, before he notices them look at each other. "You know, um," Carlos rubs the back of his neck. "I'm tired. Wake me up when it's ready."

After he walks past them, Aziz looks back at the brownies and then notices the light on the stove, "Hey. Carlos." He turns toward him, and Aziz informs, "I think you still have brownies in the oven."

Carlos frowns, "You can have them." before he exits the room.

Aziz faces his father, "Carlos passing up chocolate?"

"He said he's tired," he reasons. "Maybe it's making him nauseous."

"Did you know he was planning to do this?" he questions.

His father hesitates, "I had an honest talk with him. He doesn't want to admit this is happening to him, and he's not willing to lose his friendship with you over it."

"And pretending to be a vegetarian for four days fixes both of the problems," Aziz understands. "But he's not going to make it that long."

"That's a lesson he needs to learn," he states. "You kids are still figuring out how your bodies react to certain things, the things that make you feel full or make you sick. If he fails this, he's not going to try to do it again."

Aziz takes a minute, "How bad are we expecting him to fail? Is he going to starve himself until he breaks down and begs to be brought home, or are we going to wake up one day with our pets' fur laying on the kitchen floor?"

"Sometimes lessons are hard," his father frowns, "but I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't happen."

"And how are you going to do that?"

Aladdin thinks, "We can keep the cats in our rooms while we sleep."

"They're going to want to get out," he debates. "And what about Jasper? He doesn't even have to annoy us to leave. He can open the door at any time."

"Don't worry." He reassures, "I'm sure Jasper's smart enough not to get eaten."

"You think?"

His father smiles, "I know."

* * *

Aziz notices Carlos slow his eating, "I told you, you don't have to eat it. I saved some brownies for you in the fridge."

"And I said I need more than brownies," Carlos complains, before he wraps an arm across his abdomen. "I have a stomachache."

"Maybe you're full," Aladdin suggests. "You ate a lot earlier."

Aziz hears Carlos's stomach, "Yeah. That doesn't sound like he's full."

"I think I'll just finish the plate and let it settle," Carlos solves, before he eats another tofu ball; however, it crawls back up his throat. He swallows, bringing a hand to his mouth, as it comes back up.

"Carlos?" Aziz worries, and Carlos stands to run to the bathroom.

When he looks at his father, his mother suggests, "Maybe he's allergic."

Aladdin turns to her, "Allergic to tofu?"

"Allergic to soy." She explains, "Remember? My doctor told me not to have soy while nursing. The allergic reaction happens, because the immune system overreacts to the proteins."

"And younger kids are more likely to get a reaction," he recalls. "So, you're thinking Carlos is part of the lucky percentage who didn't grow out of it?"

"Or the virus doesn't like it," she considers. "It already attached itself to his DNA and rewrote it. His body knows the protein in tofu isn't what he's supposed to have."

"It doesn't matter why he's allergic," Aziz interrupts. "Allergies can get worse the more the body is exposed to it. He had a stomachache last time, and now he's throwing up?"

"He's right." Jasmine faces Aladdin, "The more often a foreign agent is introduced to the body, the easier it is for the body to respond. The response could be a lot harsher next time."

Aladdin stands, "I should check on him." and he heads to the bathroom. A retching sound comes from a stall, and he notices puke in one of the sinks as he passes it. "Carlos?" He moans, and Aladdin slowly opens the stall. "Hey. How are you doing?"

"Awesome," Carlos catches his breath, before he holds up a thumb and sits against the metal divider.

"We're thinking that you might be allergic to soy." He explains, "The tofu."

"That must be why I'm puking my guts out," Carlos concludes.

"If you are allergic—"

"I'd like to die alone."

"You're not going to die," Aladdin dismantles. "Why would you want to be alone?"

"Because, my family's not here," he hoarsely shouts. "As good as you are, as great as you've been to me, you're not them."

"Your family. You mean, those other kids," he acknowledges, and Carlos nods. "When was the last time you talked to them?"

He shakes his head, "I've texted Evie almost every night when I first came here, but I stopped when I started to feel… sick, I guess. She's worried about me."

"And the others?" Aladdin inquires.

"I miss Mal's advice," he admits, "but she's not the kind of person you can just plan to talk to about stuff. As far as Jay goes… well, you know how that goes."

"Is it going to be safe for you to go back?" he inquires.

"I mean, he's still going to be my roommate, right?" Carlos unsurely answers.

"Right." He smiles, "How about you and Mal switch rooms? She can be with her brother, and you can stay with Evie."

"I don't think it's going to matter that Mal and Jay's parents hooked up," Carlos inputs. "They're not technically related, and pregnancy is still a problem on paper." His expression slips, and Carlos comments, "I did stay with Mal and Evie a week or something last year, but that's really not allowed. And I'm sure they'd like to do some things that don't include me anyway."

"Right," Aladdin understands.

"It's not his fault." Carlos confesses, "I had a hard time talking to him. He doesn't even know he did anything wrong."

"Because he's a sociopath," Aladdin reminds him, "who can't pick up social cues."

"Neither can people with autism," Carlos counters, and Aladdin sighs. "He needs someone who can be straight-forward with him. Like…" He falters, "Like Ruby."

"Carlos," he starts.

Carlos holds his stomach, "Uh, you know, I think some of that tofu got digested. Could you go?"

"Oh." Aladdin stands, "Yeah." before he walks out of the stall. "Of course." He turns, watches the door shut, and nods before heading out of the bathroom.

* * *

"You think Carlos the Chocolate Addict is a vampire?" William questions.

"I'm serious," Aziz stresses. "He looks sick, and he's completely out of it."

"Well, if he's a vampire and he looks sick, then you're not feeding him right," William points out. "Please don't tell me you're trying to make him a vegetable too."

"Vegetarian," Aziz corrects. "I know your English isn't that bad. Stop with the jokes."

"I get to talk to Chad in German now," William brags, before he lets out a breath. "Well, we were, before he got grounded for…"

"For what?"

"You know," he backtracks, "it doesn't even matter."

"What? Was he caught with a guy or something?" Aziz assumes.

He takes a moment, "I thought that was a secret."

"Chad has a really loose definition of secret." Aziz laughs, "I mean, you can't fuck any guys if no one knows you're homo, right?"

"I hope you don't call Carlos that," William mentions. "If I remember correctly, they call it 'gay' on the Isle."

"You know, what?" Aziz agitates. "I'll call them whatever I damn please. I'm not going to change what our country calls them just because those people can't admit that what they're doing is wrong."

"Whatever, man," William whispers. "I got to go."

"Wait," Aziz requests. "Aren't you going to help me with Carlos?"

"You want to know if he's a vampire?" William reiterates. "Try garlic."

"Garlic?" he repeats.

"A nice, quick and easy test. Like you want."

"Garlic's a myth," Aziz disagrees. "If it was that easy to test for it, there wouldn't be a test for it."

"I don't like garlic, my mother doesn't like garlic, and Ben absolutely hates it," William disagrees. "Now, it's more of a sensitivity than an allergy, so it won't kill him, but—"

"It'll work?" Aziz softly asks.

"It's spicy," he explains. "It'll burn his mouth. It's small, but yeah. It will work."

"Okay," Aziz nods. "I'll try that."

"Another thing." He pauses, "If he is a vampire, don't try to get him any blood."

Aziz takes a second, "I thought that's what vampires ate."

"Has he ever had blood before?"

He thinks, "It doesn't sound like it."

"Then it's better if he continues doing whatever he's been doing until now," William opinionates. "Blood—especially, fresh human blood— might be the best thing for a vampire to have, but it's also the hardest thing to live without." He sighs, "Maybe it's different if you're raised and gradually introduced to it, but I think about it nearly all the damn time. And I know it's going to be way worse for someone who's never even had it before."

"You mean," Aziz examples, "someone like Ben?"

"Yeah," he agrees. "Exactly like Ben. Well, minus the eating disorder."

"That binging's going to get him into trouble one day," Aziz opinionates.

"Binging?" Aziz fails to speak, and he comments, "You haven't seen the picture yet."

"Picture?"

"The one leaked of Ben, when he was in the hospital." William discerns, "Dude. You're so out-of-touch. He's completely underweight. I really hope he's not dead."

"I know his parents are secretive," Aziz acknowledges, "but even they can't hide that."

"They wouldn't know."

"What do you mean, 'they wouldn't know'?" Aziz asks.

"Ben's low-key missing," he informs. "Oh. But we're not supposed to tell our parents about it. I'm telling you, my parents had a field day with that one."

"Who said not to tell our parents?"

"Who do you think?" William answers, "Ben's parents. They're afraid it's going to ruin their image, and Queen Belle's certain Ben will turn up once the new school year starts." He laughs, "You know how they are."

"Yeah," Aziz frowns. "You do too."

"I do," he confirms. "Anyway, they gave us strict instructions to turn Ben into them for his own safety if we heard from him. So, make sure to turn him in. Or don't. It's your choice."

Aziz's expression slips, he lowers the phone to his side, and he exits the bedroom before heading towards the living room. His father faces him and frowns, "I'm guessing you weren't given good news?" Aziz shakes his head, and he questions, "So, he thinks Carlos could have the virus, then?"

"Uh." Aziz answers, "He said to try garlic. I was thinking garlic bread."

"And that's not going to hurt him?" he makes sure.

"No. It won't." His parents look at each other, and Aziz addresses, "Dad."

He turns back to him, "Yes?" but Aziz fails to speak. "What is it?"

After Aziz fails to answer again, his mother reassures, "Whatever it is, you can tell us."

"Well, it's just…" He glances at his phone before facing him, "Ben's missing."


	88. Missing

**Missing **

**(Wednesday Night, August 13****th****)**

"Ben's missing?" Aladdin's eyes widen. "Ben. The king of the country?"

"That Ben," Aziz's eyes shift. "Yeah."

He faces Jasmine, "No one called us?" and she shakes her head.

"William said Ben's parents are insisting that we don't tell our parents," Aziz slowly relays. "They just want us to… make him go home."

"So, they didn't even tell the police Ben's missing?" he presumes.

"Probably not."

"He's a royal," his father disbelieves. "He could be getting held for ransom."

Jasmine covers Aisha's ears, "He has unpopular opinions. They could kill him."

"I'm on it," Aladdin states.

Aziz notices him pull out his phone, "Don't."

His father gapes at him, "Aziz. The police need to be notified."

"You can't," he persists.

"I'll use the Auradon area code," he reassures. "His atheism and everything won't get in the way. It will be handled properly."

"I'm not worried about the police," Aziz shouts. "I'm worried about his parents."

His father lowers the phone, "Explain."

Aziz takes a moment, "We think he ran away. He should be back for school."

"Aziz Ali." He sternly repeats, "Explain."

Aziz opens his mouth to speak; however, the breath escapes him, and Carlos comes out of the hallway, "Ben's father hurts him."

"Aisha," Jasmine instructs, "go to bed."

"But Mom," she whines.

"Now," she firmly says.

After the little girl passes between Aziz and Carlos, Aladdin mentions, "I thought that case was closed. He was proven innocent."

"You can't have a crime without a victim," Carlos softly speaks. "Ben never came forward. He told the police nothing happened."

"Why would he do that?" Jasmine asks.

"Because," Carlos breathes, "his mother told him to do what he thought was right, and he would do anything for her."

Aladdin takes a minute, "Do you think Ben can make it until school starts?"

"Not on his own," Aziz opinionates. "He has way too many medical problems."

"He's probably crashing with someone," Carlos comments.

Aziz faces his father, "You should try King Charming. He's been like the father Ben should have had."

"I've noticed," Aladdin tiredly replies, before he finds the number and widens his eyes. "Stay there. No one's going anywhere." He addresses, "Yes. King Charming. Word is King Ben's gone missing." He nods, "I see." before he frowns. "His friends think he ran away. You don't know where he might be, would you?" He takes a moment, "No? Okay." His eyes glower, "You don't think we should involve the police." He nods, "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

After the call ends, Aziz asks, "So, he doesn't know where Ben is?"

"That's what he claims," his father confirms. "But don't worry. He lied." He takes a deep breath, "We have a bigger issue." before he eyes between them. "Ben's new bank account was frozen. If he doesn't turn up, he's not going to have the money to pay for his next month's prescription."

"Ben's resourceful," Carlos comments. "He'll come up with the money."

"They could flag his name," Jasmine mentions. "He might not want to get his refill." She looks at Aladdin, "Wasn't he surviving on cold medicine?"

"Which is risky," he answers. "He needed a lot more cold medicine that the bottle said to use, and it doesn't even lower it as much as his pills do."

"What do you want us to do?" Carlos questions.

He faces them, "His father wants to meet with him with the lawyer to settle their money dispute, but he has no way of getting Ben there."

"So, we find him," Carlos concludes.

Aladdin smiles, "And you have his number."

"And you don't?" He points out, "He's still going to want to get that homeless apartment thing done, right?"

Aziz frowns, "I don't think he's going to care about anything right now." before he faces his father. "He better be with someone. He could be suicidal again."

"If I'm right, then King Charming's already taking care of him," he reassures, before he looks at Carlos. "But I want to know for sure."

Carlos shakes his head, "I don't really call people. They're going to know it's a trap."

"Ben doesn't know you that well," Aziz negates. "Just try it." He hears Carlos's stomach again, "Are you okay or—"

"I'm calling," Carlos interrupts, before he finds Ben's number. "But I'm telling you, he's not going to—" His eyes widen, "Ben. Um." He switches to French, "I was, uh, worried about you. William told Aziz your parents are looking for you."

"Looking," Ben confirms, "and epically failing." He hesitates, "Sorry. You're new. I should speak dumber. Or easier, I mean."

"No. It's fine," Carlos reassures. "I understand."

"What's he saying?" Aziz encourages, and Carlos covers the phone.

"Is there someone there?" Ben accuses.

Carlos sighs, "Aziz just want to know if you're okay."

"I'm fine," Ben evenly expresses. "Tell him not to worry about it."

Carlos passes on the message, "He wants you to stop worrying about him." before he moves the phone back towards his mouth. "Can I ask where you are?"

Ben takes a long minute, "I'm sorry, but I can't trust you with that."

"Right," Carlos accepts.

"I can tell you," Ben informs, "I'm staying with a friend. They're keeping me safe."

"Good," Carlos nods. "Hey. You're not hiding in your own house, are you? That would be a really stupid idea."

"Not that stupid," Ben defends. "My parents only use half of it."

"You're coming to school, right?" Carlos asks. "When it starts."

Ben hesitates, "I don't know."

"You can't stay in your house when school starts," Carlos angers. "Your parents will know you're there."

"Why?" Ben inquires. "Are you going to tell them?"

"How do you say 'figure out' in French?" Carlos replaces.

"I just can't deal with it right now," Ben explains.

"Yeah," Carlos understands, before he eyes over his audience and turns away from them. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure."

"When you found out you were a, uh, meat eater," Carlos's eyes shift, "did it…"

"Change anything?" Ben finishes in English. "I'm probably the wrong person to ask. Knowing didn't make things easier for me. It made me want to not be. I tried not to be." Carlos nods, and Ben questions, "Why you asking?"

"Just asking," he settles. "Thank you. Stay safe."

"Yeah," Ben agrees. "You too."

When Carlos turns back around, Aladdin frowns, "Please tell me you know where he is."

Carlos takes a moment, "He's staying with Evie in the East Wing." before he eyes between them. "But you can't tell anyone."

"He'll be going to the school when it opens this week," Jasmine assumes.

Carlos eyes between them, "He doesn't know, yet."

"If Adam's really hurting him," Aladdin addresses, "then it's not safe there."

"I told him that," Carlos unsurely says.

"You're not going back there," Aladdin seriously responds. "I don't care that your family is there. If you need to go back early, you can stay with Chad or William."

"Or Jane?" Carlos reminds him.

"Yes," he breathes. "Or Jane, but you're not staying with someone who beats their kid."

Carlos frowns, "Belle's my legal guardian."

"And if she really wants what's best for you, that's all she'll be," he inputs.

Aziz hears Carlos's stomach again, "You should really try to eat something."

Carlos shakes his head, "I guess, there's always brownies."

"I was thinking garlic bread," Aziz tests.

"Garlic bread?" Carlos repeats.

"Yeah." Aziz asks, "Why? You don't like garlic?"

"Are you kidding?" Carlos smiles. "I love garlic."

"You love garlic?" Aziz doubts.

He laughs, "You seem surprised."

"A little," he admits. "But if you're up for it, I was going to make some."

"I'm so up for it," Carlos agrees.

* * *

"I don't see what you see in me," Evie half smiles, as Ben hangs up the phone. "Carlos's French is much better than mine. You should make him your best friend."

"Hey. Um," Ben bypasses, before he purses his lips. "Carlos isn't like a carnivore, is he? I mean, someone would have told me, right? After I found out about me." She starts to grin, and Ben frowns, "Evie. Is Carlos a carnivore?"

"I mean," she giggles, "carnivore is a strong word for someone who will eat anything."

"He was asking me about my experience," Ben unenthusiastically retorts. "Please tell me my mother didn't send a carnivore to live with a house of—of bunnies."

"Aziz eats meat," she reminds him.

"Not enough for it to count," Ben disagrees. "What did the nurse say? Three pounds of meat a day? Aziz probably eats a pound every or every other month, if that."

"Carlos has survived on scraps his entire life," Evie reassures. "I'm pretty sure he can find something there." Ben looks down, and she places a hand on his arm, "What's this really about?"

"I'm sad," Ben admits, "and I don't know why."

"Well, there's the fact that you're hiding from your parents, your boyfriend's father raised you, and you don't have the money to keep him from knowing you're you," Evie lists.

"I feel like eating something," Ben realizes.

"I can make something," she offers. "What do you want?"

His eyes shift, "I want to see Mal."

Her expression falls, "You can't eat Mal."

"I know," Ben murmurs.

"Seriously," Evie emphasizes. "She won't let you."

"I know," Ben says again, before he stands from the bed and heads towards the door.

Evie follows him, "What are you doing?"

He makes a right, "Getting a drink." before he turns around. "There's soda, right?"

"Yeah," Evie unsurely answers.

"Great." He turns back around, goes through the dining room, and heads into the kitchen. He crawls onto the counter and opens the glass cabinet, before he grabs the red wine bottle and jumps down. He bites his lip, grabs a soda from the box on the floor, and opens it as he strides back down the hall. He opens the door between the wings, walks into the hallway, and knocks on the door. He looks up and down the hall, knocks again, and he hears the footsteps.

The door opens, he smiles, and Mal pulls him inside. She shuts the door and pins him to the wall, "What are you doing?"

He awkwardly smiles, before he lifts the bottle, "I brought wine." She steps back, and his smile slips. "You're still drinking, right?"

"Um," Mal eyes him up-and-down. "Yeah?"

"Good," Ben breathes, "because I wouldn't want to make you do anything you don't want to do."

She takes the bottle, "Honestly, if you didn't bring this, I'd probably be cutting." He wets his lips, and her mouth opens, "You didn't want to hear that. Sorry."

"No. Um." Ben hesitates, "I just kind of felt like having you."

She raises an eyebrow, "Have me?"

He tilts his head and lifts a shoulder, "Like. If we could give each other drinks."

"Like if we locked arms and drank from wine glasses?" Mal skeptically comments. "That's a wedding ceremony."

"No," Ben reassures. "Not that. The wine's yours. I just… I wanted…" He sighs, "Please, don't make me say it."

She stares at him, "You want to drink from me."

"I thought you might not care if you were happy," he explains.

"I care," she nods.

He nods in return, "I know."

"Someone can't consent to something when they're drinking, right?" she recalls.

"I know," he acknowledges.

"So, why are you here?" she gapes.

He tries to smile, "I really wanted you." and she continues to stare at him. "Mal."

"Get out."

"Mal," he says again.

She glows her eyes and calmly commands, "Get out."

After Ben leaves, she uncorks the bottle, takes a drink, and heads into the bathroom. She turns on the hot water, takes the rusted blade from the corner of the bath, and tosses it into the trash. The wine bottle is set on the sink counter, as she takes another blade from the drawer, and she takes out her phone. She takes another drink as it rings, and she answers the voicemail, "Hey, Lons. Can you come over? I need you."

* * *

"You tried trading Mal wine for blood?" Ben eyes up as he nods, and Evie hits his shoulder with her phone, "Bad Ben."

"Ow," he spouts. "I'm not a dog."

"Aren't you, though," she points out. Ben's head lowers, and she fumes, "And I'm not talking about the whole carnivore thing, because we both know you're too human to be a beast."

His eyes narrow, "You make that sound like a bad thing."

"I'm talking about how you were going to take advantage of Mal," she states.

"No one's advantaging anyone," Ben defends.

"You just thought you would use her alcoholism against her," Evie concludes.

"No," Ben denies.

"No?"

"I just wanted to trade drinks," he diminishes.

"Oh, really?" Evie disbelieves. "Maybe I should tell Belle, see what she thinks."

"No," Ben urges. "My parents can't know I'm here."

"This is serious, Ben," Evie whispers. "You might as well tried to get her drunk so that she wouldn't care if you had sex."

He shakes his head, "No."

"Yes," Evie hisses. "God, Ben. This is so unlike you. Why—" He faces her, and she nods, "You're hungry."

"Not anymore," Ben reassures.

"Okay, no." Evie's eyes widen, "You're not restricting after you almost bit our girlfriend's head off. I'm making you something to eat."

Ben watches her open the door, "Evie."

She turns back to him, "Yeah?"

"Thank you."

She smiles, "No problem."


	89. Pardon

\- If you want to see Jay's breakdown, it happens in the story **Side Problems: in the Pack**. **Chapter: Please**. It shows Mal's pre-hospitalization and Jay's reaction to her almost dying. It really hit me the first time I reread it, but not so much the second time. The idea is Jay would still care about and grieve for Mal, but he does it differently. But you know what they say, everyone grieves differently. I really wanted to put emphasis on that I don't think Jay's ever said please before, saying it in desperateness, but I'm not sure if that got across.

* * *

**Pardon **

**(Wednesday Night, August 13****th****)**

"So, you think Jay's going to try to kill me?" Ben analyses.

"Promise me you will get out of there, until we make it back," Evie continues.

"We?" Ben notices.

She hesitates, "I got worried after Jay left. I kind of slipped it to Belle." He stays quiet, and she comments, "I'm sorry, but she said she wouldn't say anything."

"That kind of ruins my plans," Ben notes.

"It doesn't have to," Evie starts.

Ben interrupts, "Is Mal better?" and she fails to answer. "Evie?"

"This isn't your fault," she reassures.

"But," his hearts speeds up, "she's still alive?"

"Alive?" Evie's pitches raises, "Yeah. She's alive."

"Evie," Ben emphasizes. "What's wrong with Mal?"

"Her temperature's really low." Evie perkily replies, "But they gave her a heat lamp and an electric blanket."

Ben points out, "Then why isn't she better?"

"She's in a coma," Evie informs. "The doctors want to check her brain activity."

"They think she's braindead," he realizes.

"No," she reassures. "She has these wires connected to her that say her brain activity and body temperature and stuff. She's not braindead."

"But you said they wanted to check her brain," he reminds her.

"They want to check the part that regulates body temperature," she revises.

"Mal's a dragon," he frowns. "That part of her brain might not even exist."

"It's the same part of the brain that controls sexual response and hormones that create love and happiness," Evie informs. "It's likely it was working at least a little." Ben thinks of when he told Mal he loved her, and she never said it back. "Ben. You have to get out of there."

"I'm going," Ben evenly expresses, before he puts the phone back into his pocket, walks out of the room, and heads down the hall. He crosses into the West Wing, goes into Mal's room, and finds the bathroom in the state his mother and Lonnie had left it. Mal's clearly not getting the happy hormone, and her temperature's never been great. She told him once that she didn't know what love felt like. Maybe that's because she never had the ability. Even if Evie's right about that part of the brain partly working, it would still be a lot harder for Mal to return his feelings for him. His parents were right. He can't expect Mal to act like humans, but he told her he would teach her what love felt like and it's worked. After all, if Jay can care about Mal, then Mal can care about him. She still loves him—and Evie. It's just going to feel different for her. He eyes over the filled bath and the empty wine bottles. If the part of Mal's brain that produces happiness isn't working right, then she's more likely to react like this. He knew she has a history or depression. He should have been accommodating her, but his hunger got the best of him. Why did he even do it? He just couldn't get past his own wants, but the results are this. The results are always like this, and he always feels bad after. So, why does he still do it?

"Criminals always return to the scene of the crime," Jay announces himself, and Ben turns around. "You want to tell me what you did to upset Mal this time?"

Ben's mouth opens, before he diminishes, "I asked if I could drink from her."

"With her temperature issues?" Jay infuriates. "Blood loss would lower it even more."

Ben's eyes shift, "I didn't think about that."

"Because, all you think about is yourself."

He notices the knife unfold from Jay's fist, "I know. I'm sorry."

"You killed Mal," Jay steps towards him.

His frown deepens, "She's getting help."

"Let's get one thing straight," he points the knife out and walks towards him. "You don't have to kill Mal to be responsible for her death." He grits his teeth, "She died when you made her question who she is, made her depend on you, and broke her self-esteem."

Ben backs against the wall, "I didn't mean to do that."

"And now you won't do it again." Jay steps towards him, raises the knife, and aims for Ben's chest; however, a larger form steps in front of the blade. "What?" Jay lets go of the handle, steps back, and watches Adam scratchily roar as he pulls the blade from his stomach.

Adam turns towards Ben, "Looks like I found you." before he falls to his knees. He presses his hand tighter against the wound, as he opens the hand with the knife and flattens it against the floor. "Ben. Call ES." He feels the dizziness overtake him, before he looks back up at him, "Ben. Stop staring and call them." He continues to stare, and Adam grabs his pants, "Ben!" Ben picks up the knife, and he lets go of him. "Ben?"

Ben faces Jay, "Go."

Jay takes a minute; however, once he leaves, Adam relaxes, "Okay. He's gone. Call ES."

He emotionlessly looks at him, "What's wrong? Not used to stomach pain?"

"Ben," he deeply breathes. "Stop this insolence and help me."

"Why?"

He sinks to the ground and turns onto his side, before he sternly expresses, "I just saved your life."

"And how many times did I almost die because of you?" he irritably responds.

"I'd never hurt you," Adam insists, and Ben shakes his head before walking away. Adam groans in pain, Ben slowly walks out of the room, and he turns into the hall.

"Ben?"

He turns his head up, "Mother?" before he eyes to the left. "Evie."

Evie makes a face, "Is that a knife?"

Ben holds up the knife to look at it, "Oh. Um."

Belle notices it, "That's blood."

"That?" He awkwardly smiles, "I don't know where that came from."

"Belle." Ben's smile slips, as his father yells, "Belle. I need you."

Belle eyes over Ben in horror, before she passes him and runs into the room. Ben glances at Evie, before he walks by her. "Hey." He faces her, and she questions, "Where're you going?"

"I can't hear her cry," Ben confesses.

She eyes from the knife to Ben, "What happened?"

Ben wets his lips, "I stabbed my father."

"No." She points out, "That's Jay's knife."

"Yeah." Ben frowns at her, "I took it, so he couldn't kill me."

She takes a moment, "I can't read you."

"Because I'm telling the truth."

"No." She puts a hand to his chest, "How you feel. I don't feel anything from you."

"There's not a lot to feel," Ben dismisses. "My father can't even admit I was in the hospital because of him. He almost killed me dozens of times. I'm allowed to try to kill him at least once."

"Ben," Belle steps out of the room, and he faces her. "Where's Jay?"

"Why?" he questions.

"Your father said Jay stabbed him." She reasons, "He can't get away with it."

Ben frown deepens, "I'm responsible."

"You're responsible," she repeats.

"He was angry, and I got scared," he explains.

"And you did what?" she disbelieves. "Just walked away?"

"That's exactly what I did." She stares at him, and he excuses, "I'm obviously still depressed and don't care enough about anything."

"If you're going to tell me your father is just covering for himself—" she starts.

"Or maybe it's easier for him to send a sociopath to the Isle than his sole heir." Ben reminds her, "I committed treason. I would get sent to the Isle, a place without any real medicine, where I would surely die from my various medical conditions."

"So, this is just another way for you to kill yourself," she sums. Ben lifts a shoulder, and she takes a deep breath, "Get rid of the knife. I'll think of something." She glances over her shoulder and gapes, "Oh, God." before running back into the room.

When Ben steps in front of the room, he sees his father vomiting blood. Evie asks, "Do you think he's going to be okay?"

Ben turns from the screen, "I have to get rid of the knife."

"Hand it to me," Evie offers. "I can get it back to Jay."

"Really?" Ben unsurely says. "I was just going to throw it, it being proof of all this."

"That knife's important to Jay," Evie seriously says. "He needs it back."

Ben opens his mouth, "How's a knife important?"

"It's the knife his father used to kill his mother," Evie discloses, and Ben blankly stares. "He needs that knife back," she enforces.

He scratches the back of his head, "Okay. I'll give it back."

"No." Evie shakes her head, "I'll give it back."

"I'm not afraid of him," Ben unenthusiastically replies.

"Then you're an idiot." She nods to Mal's room, "Your father needs you. You're the only one who's going to match his blood type." He glances back, and she outstretches her hand, "Give the knife to me. I'll get rid of it."

"Okay," Ben breathes, before he hands it to her.

* * *

"Patient's name is King Adam Beast," the paramedic introduces. "Six-four-foot, Caucasian male. He was stabbed in the abdominal region and has started vomiting blood. History of high blood pressure, high heart rate. Currently untreated."

The doctor instructs the others, "Get him to the OR."

"Wait," Ben interrupts. "What blood are you going to use?"

He looks at the tablet, "His chart says he's type O, so he's in luck."

"I bet his chart doesn't say he's a carnivore," Ben divulges, and the surgeon's smile slips. "The curse changed his DNA. I'm the only match you're going to find."

"Doctor?" a woman inquires.

"Get him prepped," he whispers to them, but they fail to leave. "Now!"

After they leave, he turns towards Ben, "You can't donate."

"I had to deal with this a few weeks ago," Ben informs. "The blood could kill him."

"I'm sorry," he solemnly addresses, "but you're too underweight to donate."

Ben awkwardly smiles, "I'm not that underweight."

Belle intrudes the silence, "What will be of Adam?"

"Well, if he's smart," the doctor addresses, "then he's already donated to himself. A king wouldn't leave himself without options, would he?"

"I would," Ben mutters, and his mother places a hand on his shoulder.

When the doctor faces Belle, she excuses, "He's having a really hard time—with his girlfriend in a coma, and now his father."

"If King Beast was anything, it was careful," the doctor reassures, before he swipes the tablet. "And it looks like he has been donating to himself." He grins, "If everything goes to plan, he should be just fine."

After the doctor leaves, Ben notices everyone staring at him, "I want to go home."

"You got your father into this," she sternly whispers. "The least you can do is act like you're not responsible for this. It's a stab wound. The police will want our statements."

"And you want me," Ben points to himself, "to lie to them."

"You aren't very good at that," she recalls.

"And look around," Ben encourages. "If I stay here any longer, I'll be committed."

She sighs, "Alright. You can go."

"Not quite yet." Two officers walk up to them, "We're looking into the attempted murder of King Beast."

Ben frowns, "You need to tell us your names and unit."

"Homicide," the blond informs. "I'm Detective Zimmerman, and this is my partner Detective Robin."

The brunette woman asks, "Can either of you tell us what happened tonight?"

"One of the Isle kids, Jay, stabbed him," Belle cooperates.

Ben gapes at her, "I told you he didn't."

"Then who did?" Robin inquires.

Ben faces her, "I did."

Zimmerman chuckles, "You're not even a quarter of King Beast's weight."

Ben takes a moment, "He was surprised too."

"So, you took him by surprise?" Robin analyzes.

"Are we going to have to do this whole thing in English?" Ben irritably replies, before he points between the two. "Do you speak French at all?"

"Sign Language," Robin informs.

"German," Zimmerman supplies. "Why?"

Ben sighs, "I can just see this getting real tired real fast."

"Tiring," his mother corrects.

He narrows his eyes at her, "That's what I said."

"I assure you, it's not," she smiles.

Ben faces the detectives, "Anyway, if we could just get this over with so that I can get sent to the Isle and die, that would be great."

Zimmerman bypasses, "I'm afraid we're going to have to investigate the crime scene first, make sure you really did it."

"If you did," Robin adds, "then you won't have any problem reenacting it for us."

Ben widens his eyes, "Stress me anymore, and I will bite."

"Pardon him." Belle excuses, "He hasn't been eating right."

"I eat just fine," Ben defends, before he faces her. "I'm just tired of speaking a language I don't understand. English is the most stupid language I had to learn. Sorry—relearn."

Zimmerman interrupts, "You don't know English?"

Ben brows furrow, "You try speaking your second language after breaking your head on the stone floor." before he looks at his mother. "It's too bad Father donated to himself. If he died from wrong blood, then that would be perfect for what I had to go through last month."

"Your father's in the hospital," she fiercely whispers. "Don't talk about him like that."

"Why?" Ben reminds her, "I was hospitalized half my life, and that didn't stop him from talking shit about me."

The male detective whispers, "That's what we call motive."

"Yes," Robin agrees. "I know." She speaks up, "King Ben. We were asking if you could take us to where this happened and then show us how it happened."

Ben faces them, "And then I get to go to the Isle, right?"

"He doesn't need the Isle," Belle discourages. "What he needs is council. He's clearly not well. He needs treatment. The Isle is supposed to be a last resort."

Detective Robin mentions, "That's really up to the judge to decide."

"So, where did this crime take place?" Zimmerman prompts.

* * *

Ben walks into Mal's room, moves towards the wall, and turns around, "I was standing here when my father came in. He was mad. I got scared, he came over, and I stabbed him." Ben gestures the underhand motion, "And that's how it happened."

"And you just so happened to have a knife on you?" Zimmerman doubts.

Ben evenly answers, "I thought I should have one after I was hospitalized last month."

"And where is it now?"

Ben looks at Belle, "My mother told me to… not have it."

Robin raises her eyebrows at her, "You told him to get rid of evidence?"

"He's ill, and this is a family matter," she excuses.

"It's starting to sound more like a social services matter," Zimmerman opinionates.

Belle strains a smile, "I reassure you, they've already investigated us and came up short of nothing."

"I'm sure they did," Robin insinuates. "You look like the kind to clean up well."

"Just not well enough." He looks at Ben, "Where did you put the knife?"

"Um," Ben's eyes shift.

"What's going on?" Jay frustrates, as he comes in. "Get out of Mal's room."

"Jay," Ben urges, "get out of here."

He walks up to them, "Who are these people?"

They turn towards him, "I'm Detective Zimmerman, and this is Detective Robin. We're looking into the attempted murder of King Adam Beast."

"Detective," another man speaks up from the doorway.

"And that's our forensics' analyst," Zimmerman smiles, before he walks over to him.

Ben faces Jay, "Go."

"Yeah?" Jay raises an eyebrow. "With what door?"

"No one's going anywhere," Robin announces.

Detective Zimmerman walks back to them, "We have a problem." before he looks at Ben. "The knife was angled downward, not upward."

"Which means?" Ben prompts.

"It's unlikely King Beast was taken by surprise," Robin answers, before she faces Jay. "There's another person in the hospital. Mal."

"Robin?" Zimmerman inquires.

"What's your relationship with her?" she finishes.

He stares at her, "She's my sister."

"They grew up together," Belle clarifies.

"And that upsets you, doesn't it?" she examines.

"What's your point?" Jay angers.

"I think you blame someone," she declares. "Perhaps, someone who has a history of violent rage and a background you couldn't compete with."

"Adam didn't put Mal in the hospital." Jay points to Ben, "He did. His father just got in the way."

"Jay," Ben whispers. "What are you doing?"

"You're nothing more than a wolf in sheep's clothing," Jay judges. "You might think you're royal, but you're really a monster—just like your father."

"That's enough," Zimmerman steps between them.

"Do you really think Mal would love you, if you didn't take her from her home and bring her to a place where she can't even fend for herself?" Ben's expression falls, and Jay asserts, "She loves you, because that's how she survives here. And now, look. She's going to die."

"She's going to wake up," Ben evenly expresses, "and she's going to need you there when she does."

"Don't you get it?" Jay yells, "She's not waking up. She's going to die, and it's because of you. Why can't you see that?"

"Because, you're right," Ben forcefully responds. "She's my girlfriend, and I knew she had emotional problems."

"And then you made her feel like she was just another one of Hook's sluts," Jay adds, and Ben stares. "She did it, you know, sold her body for heat at his brothel. She probably didn't mention that between the selling ecstasy and getting raped."

"Shut up," Ben warns.

"And then she starts dating the—quote—hottest guy she's ever known, and you don't even want her," Jay grins in disgust.

"It's not like that," Ben disagrees.

"Oh, really?" Jay steps forward, and the detective pushes him back. "Is this the part where you tell me you're the only guy on Earth who doesn't like sex? Or maybe you just don't like sex with girls. You think you'd have a better time if your good ol' friend Chad Charming were behind you?"

"I said shut up," he roars, and the detectives look at him. Ben brings a hand to his throat, clearing it, before he whispers, "I'm going to pardon him. You can probably go."

The forensics' guy intrudes, "So, am I taking samples or…"

Detective Robin frowns at Jay, "Are you willing to sign the confession?"

Jay eyes Ben, "You're seriously going to pardon me?"

"I have to believe Mal's going to wake up," Ben solemnly says, "and when she does, she's going to hate me if I don't keep you here. She could go back. Everyone could. And then no one from the Isle would be given a second chance ever again."

Jay faces the detectives, "I'll sign or whatever."

"After you sign," Robin informs, "you will be held in jail for processing. If the king announces your pardon before your hearing, then you won't have to go to prison."

"You mean, the Isle," Jay corrects.

"For treason," Zimmerman answers, "yes."

"Alright," Jay nods. "I'm cool with that." He points, "There's food, right?"

"And a TV," he confirms, as he guides Jay out of the room. "So, you get to listen to every report that comes in before His Highness pardons you." Zimmerman turns towards Ben, "You do know pardons need to be done in the country's language, right?"

"Sorry, Jay," Ben apologizes. "It might be a couple days."

"Don't sweat it," Jay smirks. "I'll come up with a list of demands."

"Demands?" Belle disbelieves. They leave into the hall, and she steps in front of Ben, "You're pardoning him?"

"Are you upset, because he tried to kill me or Father's in the hospital?"

"It's not like pardons are unlimited," she reminds him, "and you're biased in this matter."

"So, it is about Father," Ben concludes.

"I can't believe you would just walk away and let him die," she sidetracks.

"You were ready to believe I tried to kill him a minute ago," he disagrees.

She furiously whispers, "I was ready to believe you felt the need to defend yourself. There's a difference."

Ben shakes his head before walking away, "I'm tired of this."

"Hey," she shouts. "Where are you going?"

"I have a speech to write," Ben yells back, before he walks away.

* * *

Ben taps his pencil and then again, glancing at the door, before he pulls out his phone. It rings and rings, and the lawyer answers, "King Ben? Is something wrong?"

"Wrong?" Ben inquires, before he notices the time on his watch. "Sorry. I didn't realize how late it was."

"Well, you have me now," he deeply breathes. "How may I assist you?"

"If anything happens to me, I want to make sure Mal and them still have a chance here," he explains. "Is there a way to do that?"

"We can put a time constraint on it," he thinks. "Give them five or ten years' trail."

Ben nods, "Sounds good. When can we draft that?"


	90. Offer

**Offer **

**(Thursday Morning, August 14****th****)**

"The lawyer told me your offer," Ben addresses, as he sits in the chair.

His father half laughs, "That's it? No 'how are you?', 'thanks for saving my life?'"

"I was handling it," Ben denies.

"Handling it," he scoffs. "You don't have the survival instinct." Ben quiets, and his father reminds him, "It's not polite to ask for favors when the person is suffering."

"There's no better time to settle a dispute than on someone's deathbed," Ben disagrees, and his father hums. "I don't want the money."

"You don't?" his father doubts.

"I won't live long enough to use it," Ben frowns. "I just want what's in mine. If we redirect the money, you can unfreeze it, right?"

"Sure," his father agrees.

"I have a condition," Ben interrupts.

His expression fades, "And what might that be?"

"I want half of the money to go to Mother," Ben seriously states, "in an account in her own name that only she can control."

"We're married," Adam dismisses.

"You're just afraid she will smarten up and leave if you give her any financial independence," Ben accuses, and he notices his father's mouth open. "The next time you kick her out or make her feel unsafe, I want her to be able to afford a place to stay."

His mouth shuts some, before he softly speaks, "That was a mistake."

"That you keep making," Ben finishes. "If you really care about her, then you won't have any problem giving her a way out. She loves you. She's going to stay, anyway."

"Belle doesn't need all that money." He fumes, "Who do you think pays for the electricity—the maids, and Mrs. Potts?"

"You can ask her to pitch in," Ben compromises. His father grits his teeth, "If you don't give half of the money to her, I'm going to fight for it and give it to her myself."

His father settles, "I'll contact Mr. Droit and have him sort it out."

* * *

Ben steps inside the hospital room, and Evie looks at him. "I can go," Ben offers.

"No," Evie refuses. "She's your girlfriend too."

He stares at Mal, "I can't believe I did this."

She stands, "This is not your fault."

"I drove her to drink." Ben's eyes widen, "I gave her a wine bottle."

"She's sick," Evie insists. "She's diagnosed and everything."

"I acted like her body could be bought," he rejects.

"And there's better ways to handle it." She breathes, "Punch a wall. Cry into pillow. Eat ice cream. Talk to a therapist." Ben eyes away, and Evie walks up to him, placing her hands on his arms. "This isn't your fault, and Mal—she's going to get better."

Ben hears the beep and notices her temperature lower to seventy-two, "How sure are you about that?" Evie fails to answer, and Ben's brows furrow as he notices something on Mal's arm. He walks up to her and examines the peeling skin of the handprint. "What's this?"

Evie walks over and sighs, "Looks like Lonnie was trying to help."

"And it didn't work," Ben realizes, before he gulps. "Jay was right. She's going to die, and it's my fault."

"Hey," Evie turns to him. "This doesn't change anything."

"Doesn't it?" Ben disagrees. "I was supposed to marry her, and what about you? Are you supposed to just go back to finding some guy to get your royal title back?"

"Mal made an impact on everything and everyone she came into contact with," Evie sadly smiles. "She changed me." She places a hand to his chest, "She changed both of us, and she will always be with us."

"Is she going to die?" Ben tears up, "Is she going to die? What do you see—or, uh, feel?"

Her mouth opens, "Ben. I… I really don't know."

"Of course, not." Ben tries to smile, "That would be too easy." before he starts to cry. Evie hugs him, and he whispers, "There are a million things I would change better."

* * *

"How much money is in your account?" Evie inquires.

"Around twenty thousand," Ben answers. "Sixteen thousand after I pay for my year at Auradon Prep."

Evie falters, "You're going to go through this money really fast. Are you sure you want to spend so much of it on a school?"

"It's my last year," Ben frowns. "I have to finish it. I'm going to need a good paying job, and I won't get that if I can't even make it through high school—royal or not."

"What about Beth?" she reminds him. "Is that something you still want to try?"

"Well, yeah," his eyes shift.

"And how much is that going to cost?"

"Between the human hair wig and colored contacts?" Ben adds up. "Not as much as what the school costs."

"You're making your eyes brown?" she assumes.

"Not brown." Ben thinks, "More of a honey or gold. I just want an overlay."

There's a knock on the door, and Belle opens the door, "Oh, good. I found you." She steps inside, "Ben. I got you a dentist appointment for tomorrow. Please, don't run away or get hospitalized this time."

"I won't leave town," Ben promises.

"It's at eight tomorrow morning." Ben nods, and his mother sighs, "Look. I know that what's happened to Mal must be really hard on you."

"Mom," Ben interrupts. "I really don't want to talk about it."

"It would be hard on anyone," she continues.

"You don't get it," Ben's voice raises. "I was the last person to see her. I gave her the wine that did this to her."

"Last I checked," Belle sternly remarks, "you did not give her three bottles." He eyes away, and she reasons, "Mal stole from us. This isn't your fault."

"That's what I keep trying to tell him," Evie inputs.

Belle looks at her, "I talked to Dr. Roberts. He agrees with you, that putting Mal on some medication might be good for her. When she wakes up, he will coordinate with her therapist."

"You're thinking she's going to wake up," Ben points out.

"Mal's a strong girl," his mother reminds him. "Very intelligent and intuitive."

"Whatever that means," he irritably replies.

She reiterates it in French before smiling, "She's going to make it through this."

Ben's mouth opens, "When your body is failing you, it doesn't matter how good or smart you are. The doctors scanned her brain. It's broken. She can't take heat, and if she can't take heat, she can't wake up."

"And the doctors don't know what to feed her," Evie adds. "Even if they order the feeding tube formula that uses milk instead of water, it will take a few days to get."

"What about blood?" Belle asks.

"Mal only drinks that when she's sick," Ben dismisses.

"Or if it's baked into something," Evie adds.

He turns towards her, "What about bone juice?"

"Marrow?" she understands.

"I feel like that would be hard to find," Belle mentions, "and it's not really a liquid."

"She's going to starve to death in her sleep," Ben analyzes.

"Maybe she can't feel anything," Evie encourages.

"Trust me," Ben faces her. "She can. I don't know about you, but when I'm hungry I don't wake up. I always feel like the best way to deal with it is by dreaming eating. You can still feel it, but you don't have the strength to do anything about it."

"That reminds me," Belle intrudes, and they look at her. "What do you want for dinner?"

"The nurse put Evie in charge of my meals," Ben reminds her.

"But honey," she starts to cry, "you're still so skinny. I could tell Mrs. Potts to stay longer, put a feast together."

"Mother," Ben's voice raises.

"Unless that feast includes chick pea spaghetti, almond flour desserts, and lightly cooked meat," Evie discerns, "then you can forget about it."

"That's not a feast," Belle half laughs. "I can only imagine the kind of meals you've been making him. I don't understand how a nurse trusted an anorexic with the king's nutrition."

"Evie's been helping me a lot," Ben defends. "She had to learn how to cook completely different for me. It's only been a week, and she already learned five foods."

"But you don't like them," she assumes.

"She's a great cook," Ben gapes.

"Then why aren't you putting on weight?"

"Because, I don't want to," Ben yells.

Her eyes widen, "Keep this up, and you're going to die."

"What's new?" Ben stands, "That's all I hear. You're going to die. Die. Die." before he takes a deep breath. "I'm going to die anyway, and it's not like you care."

She whispers, "I care." and Ben quiets. "You have medication now. You stand a chance. Don't you want to fight the odds?"

"I'm tired of fighting." Ben announces, "I'm done. With everything."

Her face scrunches, "Ben."

"Get out of here," he shouts.

"Honey," she shakily breathes. "Please."

"I told you to stop calling me that," Ben reminds her, before he walks over to her. His expression falters, as the cantaloupe scent strengthens.

"Ben?"

He meets her sad eyes, "You need to leave me alone."

"Well," she nods, "if that's what you want."

His eyes lower to her lips, before he notices the blue vein in her neck. His teeth ache, and he stares, "I do."

"Okay, then." She turns around, Ben follows her, and when she exits the room, she faces him. "Ben."

He closes the door and steadies himself with the doorknob. The world slowly turns, and he rests his head against the wood. "Are you okay?" Evie asks.

Ben turns and then slides down the door, folding his arms over his knees, "I want her so bad. I wish she loved me."

"In what way?"

Ben eyes up, the dizziness overtaking him, as he sighs, "Everyone would be better off if I were dead."

* * *

The woman stops cleaning Ben's teeth, once the black-haired man enters the room, "Good Morning, King Ben. I'm Dr. Herz."

"Hurts?" Ben raises an eyebrow.

He chuckles, before he takes the other dentist's seat, "Tell me something about yourself."

"Like what?" Ben questions.

"Anything," he supplies. "How your day's going? How you feel about school starting soon? Your favorite thing to eat."

"I hate dentists," Ben admits. "The last ones I went to didn't even help."

"How so?"

"I told them it still felt like I had a, uh…"

"Cavity?" he inquires.

Ben's frown deepens, "They said my teeth were fine."

"Which ones felt like cavities?" he asks.

Ben uses his thumb and ring finger to point to the two on the sides, "These."

"Those already have fillings," Dr. Herz examines.

"The x-ray didn't show any cracks," the woman informs. "It looked like they did a good job on it."

"Alright." He looks up at the monitor, "You had an appointment last year, during which they cleaned your teeth and filled the cavities. You brush and floss once a day and use mouthwash when needed. Is that correct?"

"Yes," Ben confirms.

"You're a heavy soda drinker."

He watches him scroll past the marked box for eating disorder, "You're not going to say anything about that?"

"About what?"

"The, uh, eating thing," Ben answers. "I was told I had to put it down, even though I'm not diagnosed."

"If it's a problem, your teeth will tell me," he reassures, before he finishes with the medical history. "Can I see the x-rays?" The images change, and he nods, "Next." He points to the screen, "Next. Next. Next." He turns towards Ben, "Your Highness. Do you want to see?"

Ben looks at the screen, "What am I seeing?"

He points, "Small roots." before faces him. "It's important that you don't get gum disease. That means good flossing and more cleanings."

"Okay," Ben understands.

"Do you ever get tooth pain when you're not eating?" he asks. "You might feel like biting something when it happens."

Ben glances down, "More than I like."

"It happens to a lot of carnivores," he informs. "If you don't use your teeth, the placement of the roots can become weak. If you don't keep your gums strong, then you can lose your teeth."

Ben shakes his head, "I floss."

"It's more than that." He pauses, "If you don't use your teeth, you can lose them. There are chewing sticks for carnivores for that reason. I can give you a pack on your way out."

"I've never heard of that," Ben informs.

"It's new." He admits, "A year ago we were handing out dog dental sticks."

The woman hands Ben a black board, "Sign, please."

After Ben writes his invisible signature, Dr. Herz requests, "Say 'rar' for me."

"Rar?" he questions.

"As big as you can make it," he clarifies.

Ben widens his mouth, "Rar."

"Good." He jots it down the measurement, "Now move your jaw to the side." Ben does it, and he nods, "You don't get any locking of stiffness, do you?"

"I don't think so."

"Close your teeth together and see if you can move them side-to-side." Ben offers a look, before he closes his teeth and they fail to move. "Canine guidance."

"My teeth don't move side-to-side," Ben informs. "My last dentist was upset that I couldn't. He told me to do it, like, three times."

"You have a nice, deep bite." He records, "No flat surfaces."

"The only things I can eat are pickles, corn, and green beans," Ben complains.

"You have an easy time with meat, though," he presumes.

"Until my teeth hurt," Ben mentions.

"Here." Ben opens his mouth, as he brings the foam to his teeth. "Chomp. Chomp." Ben bites it, and he takes it back, "They got your bite wrong. Your teeth hurt, because they have the fillings too high. I bet it's the same with the other side." He moves the foam towards Ben, he opens his mouth, and he bites at the new foam. The doctor takes it back, "Yes. I see, now." before he smiles at him. "I'm going to take a little off the fillings. When I do, you should feel a lot better."

When Belle is led into the room, she asks, "How did it go?"

"I was right," Ben informs. "The other dentists didn't know what to do with me." He sits up, "Whoa."

"Dizzy?" he asks.

"Yeah," Ben sighs.

"You might have to eat something." Dr. Herz turns to Belle, "I fixed his fillings. That should make things a little easier."

"That's good to hear," she smiles. "He needs to put on some weight."

Ben glowers at her, "Just because I can eat, doesn't mean I'm going to."

"Regardless," Dr. Herz interrupts, "there's something I want you to consider." They look at him, and he explains, "King Ben's teeth have dulled a little. There's an option for reconstruction, where we can add to the tips to make them sharp again."

"No," Ben rejects.

"Are you sure?" He informs, "Most carnivores enjoy the results. Having sharper teeth make them feel more powerful, more like themselves."

"I'm sure," he asserts.

"He probably doesn't even know what you're saying," Belle reasons. "His English has been better."

"I understand," Ben denies. "I understand that he wants to make my teeth sharp, and I don't want that."

"It's more than just cosmetic," he interrupts. "Having sharper teeth makes it easier for carnivores to eat."

"Well, maybe, I don't want to be a carnivore," Ben asserts.

"You can't change what you are," his mother reminds him. "This would be good for you. Remember that last time you tried having steak? You had to use a knife to cut it."

Ben's eyes widen, "Yes. Because royals use knives. I'm not going to make my teeth sharper, just because you all think I'm some kind of beast."

Belle points out, "Your teeth are supposed to be sharp. If your father were here, he'd make sure it was done."

"Then, it's a good thing he's not," Ben warns, "because if you do this to my teeth, I'm going to pull them all out."

She laughs, "And then what? Get fake ones?"

"Yes," Ben declares. "Nice, human ones."

Belle sighs before facing Dr. Herz, "I'm sorry. He's still having a hard time accepting what he is. We hid it from him for too long."

"In that case," he evaluates, "it might be best to hold off on this. He can always request it if eating becomes too hard for him." He smiles, "Speaking of which, I'm going to give him some chewing sticks. Make sure he starts using them. If he doesn't keep his gums strong, his teeth will start to fall out."

Belle nods, "I'll do my best."

* * *

After Carlos writes down the dice results on the game sheet, he brings the pen to his mouth and chews it. "Hey," Aziz asserts. "I told you to stop that."

"Right," Carlos recalls, before Aziz rolls the dice.

He catches Carlos chew on it again, "Seriously?"

"Oh," he takes it from his mouth again. "Sorry."

"You know how many germs are on there?" Aziz reminds him.

"Probably a lot," Carlos concludes, before he brings it towards his mouth.

Aziz takes his wrist, "Seriously. Stop it."

"But I want to bite it," Carlos pouts.

"It's a pen," he points out. "Why do you want to eat it?"

"Not eat." Carlos corrects, "Bite. I feel like biting something."

"Then eat something," Aziz recommends. "You're better off having brownies than some germ-infested pen. We've all probably held that. You're going to get sick."

Carlos frowns, "Brownies aren't hard enough. I need something hard to bite."

"Why?" he emphasizes.

Carlos's eyebrows furrow, "My teeth hurt. What's it to you?"

"Your teeth hurt?" He argues, "You know, when people's teeth hurt, they tend to avoid chewing things."

"There's popsicle sticks in the freezer," Aladdin solves, and Carlos stands up to go get one. He faces Aziz, "Can you be nicer?"

"He's not making any sense," he disbelieves. "His teeth hurt, but he wants to use them?"

"It's probably just his body's way of telling him that he's hungry," his father reasons.

"Then he should be eating something that's not a pen," he retaliates.

"I know his quirks are getting on your nerves," he examines, "but there's only three more days. Please, just try to be accommodating."

Aziz sighs, and Carlos comes back with a red popsicle. He sits down, takes a bite out of it, and by the time the dice returns to him, he's chewing on the stick. Aziz irritably responds, "It's gone. You can get another one."

Carlos rolls the dice, "But I like the stick. It tastes good."

"It tastes good," Aziz repeats.

He rolls again, "And I really like biting it. It feels nice."

Aziz stares, as Carlos rolls again. "How does chewing on a stick feel nice?"

"I don't know." Carlos writes on the game sheet, "It just makes my teeth feel better."

Aziz continues to glare at him, and his father reminds him, "It's your turn."

Aziz takes his turn, and a few rounds later, Carlos takes the split stick out of his mouth, "I should get another one, before I swallow a splinter."

"Yeah," Aziz strongly agrees.

Carlos frowns, "Why are you so upset?"

"There's food here," he asserts. "You don't need to be trying to eat things that aren't."

"You have a very loose definition of food," Carlos disagrees.

"I have a loose definition of food?" Aziz gapes. "You're the one eating sticks."

"Well, at least I don't eat leaves," he seethes. "Why grow your own, when you can just pick them off trees?"

Aziz takes a moment, "You're kidding, right?" Carlos stands from his seat, goes back to the kitchen, and Aziz asks, "He's just getting another popsicle, right?"

"I'll check on him," his father offers, before Aladdin trails after Carlos.

After he enters the kitchen, he sees Carlos sitting at the island counters. Carlos notices him and wipes the tears from his face, "I'm sorry." He sits across from him, and Carlos comments, "I think I'm just tired."

"And hungry?" he assumes. Carlos eyes down, and he sighs, "You're too young to be doing this to yourself. Putting this much strain on your body isn't good, especially when you're still developing."

"I reassure you," Carlos evenly expresses, "I'm fully developed."

"Even if you are," he doubts, "your brain isn't. You need the energy."

"Right. I'll just eat something, then," Carlos irritably replies, before he rests his head in his arms.

"I know I've already said this," Aladdin starts.

Carlos interrupts, "I'm not going back to Auradon."

Aladdin nods, "Do your teeth still hurt?" Carlos nods. "The popsicles are sugar free. You can have a few more before going to sleep."

"What about the game?"

Aladdin shrugs, "It's family time, not a championship. I'm sure Aziz will understand."

"I was too hungry to sleep earlier," Carlos confesses. He meets his eyes, "You don't have one of those tablet things, do you?"

"All we have here is tea," he answers. "Do you want to try some?"

"Sure," Carlos accepts.

"You sure?" Aladdin teases, "There's leaves in it."

Carlos's eyes narrow, "If you really want to see if I'm a carnivore, I could bite you."

"Wow, you're grouchy."

Carlos watches him fill the kettle with water, "I'm sorry."

"I know," he accepts. "Don't worry about it."


	91. Emergency

**Emergency **

**(Saturday Morning, August 16****th****)**

Carlos stares at the ceiling, as he lays in bed. He tries to get up, but his arms won't lift. He's too weak to move. He hears the pounding in his chest and the rush of blood in his veins. He shuts his eyes, and when they open, he sees him. "Aziz."

"I'm sorry," he apologizes. "You weren't answering."

Carlos's eyes droop, "I'm too tired to do this."

"Do what?"

"Argue with you for no reason," he murmurs.

"You're starting to look pale."

"I'm always pale," Carlos counters.

"You look sick," he clarifies.

"Thank you," Carlos comments, "You can go, now." He smells the pepper scent and opens his eyes, noticing Aziz kneeling over the bed. "I said go."

"I know," he accepts.

Carlos gulps, "I want you closer. Come up." Aziz crawls onto the bed, and Carlos turns onto his other side. He removes the bangs from Aziz's eyes, before he runs his thumb down his cheek and then eyes his neck.

"You're not allowed to kiss me," Aziz reminds him.

"That's not what I was thinking," Carlos trances, before he slowly moves into his neck. It's hard at first, but then it soaks into his mouth. He bites deeper, and his bottom canine gets stuck. He opens his eyes, pulls his mouth from the pillow, and then takes the pillowcase off his tooth. There's a hole. He'd bitten straight through it. He turns onto his back. Aziz was right. He really needs to stop trying to eat non-food items. He clutches his stomach, the feeling of his insides being shoveled out becoming more intense. He can't sleep now, and if he lays in bed any longer, he will become like the living corpse he was in his dream. He has to eat. Carlos stands from the bed. If he can find a couple dollars and go to the market when they open, then he can be back before anyone notices. It's a good thing the palace is on main street.

* * *

"No computers at the table," Aziz reminds his father.

Aladdin taps the tablet, "The security system says our front gate isn't working. If I can't troubleshoot it, then it won't go off if someone breaks in."

"There's no intruders?" Jasmine worries.

"No," he confirms. "I checked the cameras." He falters, "I mean, unless they're hiding in someone's bedroom."

"Why don't you get Carlos to help," Aziz suggests. "He's a technology expert."

"He's not feeling well," his father dismisses.

"What do you mean?" Aziz asks.

"Just what I said," he frustrates. "His teeth hurt, he's getting hunger pangs, and he can't get to sleep without a pot of tea. He's weak and lethargic, and—damn it." He tosses the tablet on the table and places a hand to his head.

"Let me try," Aziz offers, before he searches the tablet. "Well, here's your problem." He hands the tablet back to him, "Look."

Aladdin takes it back, "Is that…"

"Someone cut the wires from inside the walls," Aziz finishes. "And I can tell you it's not anyone at this table."

"Carlos," Jasmine analyzes. "But why?"

"To eat something," he assumes.

"Or someone," she suggests.

"He liked the garlic bread," Aziz reminds them. "William said if he had the virus, he wouldn't be able to finish it."

Aladdin looks at his phone, "Good news. He stole my credit card. I know where he is."

When he stands from his seat, Jasmine encourages, "Be careful."

He kisses her cheek, "Promise." before he hands the tablet to Aziz. "Make sure no one realizes they can break in."

"Please," he reminds him.

"Please," Aladdin sighs, before he heads for the door.

* * *

"Yeah. I saw him," the cashier answers. "He left an hour ago."

He purses his lips, "Thank you." before he makes his way out the store and heads for the car; however, he notices the dark alley. He moves towards it and sees a figure by the dumpster, "Carlos?" He looks at him before swiftly turning his head away, and Aladdin steps towards him. "Hey." He kneels, notices the variety of meat in the plastic bag. "I'm glad I found you."

"I'm sorry," he apologizes, and Aladdin sighs. "Are you mad?"

"No, Carlos," he frowns. "I'm not mad."

"But I stole your card," he quietly panics, "and spent way more than five dollars."

"I don't care about the money," he reassures. "I'm just happy you're okay." Carlos silences, and he tries to smile, "How about we go home?"

"Aladdin." Carlos faces him and hesitates, "I think it maybe might be kind of a good idea if I sort of went back to Auradon."

"You said you wanted to stay with Jane?" he recalls.

Carlos nods, "Yeah."

"I'll see what Fairy Godmother thinks." Carlos fails to respond, and Aladdin smiles, "Hey. I'm proud of you. It took a lot of courage for you to—"

"Can we not do this right now?" Carlos interrupts.

"Why not?"

"Because," Carlos stresses. "Look at me. I'm eating raw hamburger, asking to be brought back to the land of meat. Even if I am only meat obsessed and not some carnivore, what's Aziz going to think?"

"Why do you care so much about what Aziz thinks?" Aladdin notices, and Carlos eyes away. "Do you like him?"

"I don't dislike him," Carlos confesses, and Aladdin quiets. "Is that weird for you?"

He takes a minute, "Let's pretend I'm your father for a minute." and Carlos looks at him. "I don't want you to change who you are for some guy. Okay? If he's really your friend, he will take you as you are. And that doubles when it comes to the people who love you. Jasmine didn't want Prince Ali. She wanted me—Orphan Aladdin, homeless hustler and professional thief." Carlos stays quiet, and he reassures, "But if it helps, Aziz doesn't need to know about this. I trust you will tell him when you're ready."

"So, what will you tell him?"

"Family emergency." He waits for Carlos to face him again, "Belle wanted me to tell you that Mal's in the hospital."

"They try putting her in the psych clinic all the time," Carlos casually comments.

"She's in a coma," he clarifies. "She drowned, and it caused some brain damage. Her body can't take in heat anymore. She's stuck at room temperature."

Carlos hears his heart speed up, "It seems kind of stupid to be worrying about what some guy thinks now." He gulps, "Is, uh, Evie okay? Ben?"

"I imagine they're taking it pretty hard," he puts forth.

"Probably," Carlos acknowledges. "It's not every day your girlfriend goes braindead."

"She's not braindead," he informs.

"But she's in a coma," Carlos recalls. "She's not getting heat. She will die."

"She can probably still hear you." He suggests, "If you want, you can say goodbye."

"Yeah."

"I'm sorry," he apologizes. "This isn't how I wanted to give the news to you."

"Don't be," he frowns. "Life sucks."

Aladdin nods, "It does."

* * *

When he enters the hospital room, Evie looks at him, "Carlos?" She stands up, walking over, before she hugs him. "It's so nice to see you."

"I heard." She let's go, and he observes her, "How are you holding up?"

"Been better." She solemnly laughs, "Better than Ben. He completely blames himself. I wouldn't even be here if he wasn't asleep."

"And Jay?" Carlos questions, and Evie falters. "Right. It's stupid of me to think he would care, being a sociopath or whatever."

"Actually," Evie's eyes widen, "Jay's been taking this really hard. He tried to kill Ben and everything. He's in jail right now."

"He is?" Carlos slowly asks, "What happened, exactly?"

Evie's mouth opens, but she hesitates, "It's a long story." She takes his hand and guides him over to the chairs, before she meets his eyes and explains.

* * *

"You were an unstoppable force," Carlos remembers, "and you had all this power. I was starting to think you had to be some kind of god." A breath escapes him, "But, I guess, I was wrong." He starts to cry, "You always knew the right things to say. It might have been rude and callous, but you were always there to help me." He shakes, "I don't want you to leave."

"Hey," Jane softly speaks, and Carlos turns towards her. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. I should have waited."

"No." He wipes the tears from his face, "Come in."

She sits next to him, "How are you doing?"

"Been better." He looks at Mal, "She wasn't really nice, but she was always there. It's what I needed. She'd never have the nerve to stand up for me like Jay." He smiles, "She always said that was a good way to get beat up."

"Sounds like she cared about you," Jane acknowledges.

"Yeah."

"Oh." She panics, "Sorry."

He faces her, "For what?"

"Using past tense." She hurriedly explains, "Mal's only been in a coma for less than a week, and already I'm acting like—"

"Jane," Carlos interrupts. "It's okay. As strong as Mal is, I don't know how she could possibly get out of this one."

"Evie must be going through the spell book, though," she hopefully replies.

"You don't know what's wrong with Mal, do you?" Carlos quietly comments.

"I wasn't given a lot of information," she admits.

Carlos points to the monitor, "You see her temperature?"

"She has hypothermia," she notices.

"And you see the heat lamp and electric blanket," he points out. She turns towards him, and he addresses, "Her brain is malfunctioning. Forget about how bad she was at keeping heat. Now, she can't even get it."

"I'm sorry," she sympathizes.

"On the Isle," Carlos seriously says, "we say it sucks."

"A little cold, isn't it?" she unsurely responds.

"Life's cold." Carlos glances at her, "And Mal knows that better than anyone." He meets Jane's eyes, "I don't want anyone to pity me. Just be there for me."

"Okay," she softly accepts. "Do you want me to go?"

"No," Carlos stands from the chair. "My teeth are still killing me. I think I need a snack."

Jane stands, "My mother is waiting for us. We have some food at home."

He nods, "Sounds good."

* * *

"Sultan Aladdin wasn't kidding when he said you might be hungry," Fairy Godmother smiles, as Carlos finishes the bacon.

"What happened to your sweet teeth?" Jane notices.

"I've been eating brownies all month," Carlos says, before he looks around. "Is there anything harder? My teeth need a challenge."

"You know," Fairy Godmother moves over to the snack cupboard, "I think we do have something more challenging."

Jane notices her take the stick out, "But that's—"

"Now, Jane," she interrupts, "we have to let him try one."

Jane silences, as she watches Carlos takes the beef stick and bite it. He smiles, "Is that peanut butter?"

"On the inside," Fairy Godmother informs. "It's your reward for making it to the center."

"It never took this long for me to bite through something," Carlos comments.

"It's made for chewing," she explains. "When your teeth get tired, put it in a Ziplock bag for later."

"What is it?" Carlos questions.

Jane frowns, "They're dog treats."

Carlos falters, facing her, "Really?" She nods, and he hums, "Dogs have it good here. Do humans get anything like this?"

"Not really," Fairy Godmother states. "Humans tend to prefer eating something over chewing something."

"It's not safe for humans to eat dog treats, is it?" Jane concerns.

"In moderation," she answers before facing Carlos. "Don't use too many. I read dogs have a lot of vitamin A in their foods. I don't know how that would affect you."

"I mean," Jane protests, "if humans need less, he could overdose."

Carlos interrupts, "Fairy Godmother. Could I have a moment with Jane, please?"

She smiles, "Of course." before she lifts a finger. "Oh. And you're sleeping on the couch tonight, okay?"

Carlos smiles, "Got it."

After she leaves, Jane sits across from him, "Sorry. Even though you've only shown interest in guys, she's still worried about you being here with me—a girl."

"She's just being smart," Carlos understands. "And who knows? Just because I've only liked guys, doesn't mean I couldn't find a girl interesting."

A breath escapes her, "But you would still like guys more, wouldn't you?"

"Maybe." He analyses. "But that's illegal here." He meets her slate blue eyes, "If there's a girl I like, that I'm compatible with, then I owe it to myself to see where it goes."

"I suppose," she eyes down, before she grins and faces him again. "There was something you wanted to tell me?"

"What?"

"You told my mother you needed to talk to me," she reminds him.

"Right." Carlos takes a deep breath, "It's about why I came back early."

"About Mal," she assumes.

"No. Um," Carlos's eyes shift.

"Carlos." She takes his hand, and he looks at her. "What is it?"

He takes a moment, "I didn't know about Mal, until after I decided to come back. The real reason I came back early is because… because…"

"You can tell me," she reassures.

"I had a hard time with their vegetarian lifestyle," Carlos admits. "Like a lot." He takes a deep breath, "So much, in fact, that Aladdin said I should get myself tested for the virus."

"The virus," she repeats, before she shakes her head. "Carlos. You don't look like a predator to me. I mean, you don't act like one."

"Maybe it's not something you can see," he examines, and she quiets. "I'm going to get tested, and I'm actually really nervous about it all." They meet each other's eyes, and he asks, "If the test comes back positive, would it change the way you feel about me?"

"No." Jane grins, "Carlos. You will always be my friend, and nothing could ever change that."

"Right." Carlos lets go of her hand, "That means a lot."


End file.
